


Just Like A Jones

by jo19844_twfic



Category: Torchwood
Genre: Alien Technology, Future Fic, Gen, M/M, Science Fiction, The 456, Weevils (Torchwood)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-07-12
Updated: 2015-09-20
Packaged: 2018-04-09 01:27:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 23
Words: 53,379
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4328538
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jo19844_twfic/pseuds/jo19844_twfic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mica may be a Davies, but sometimes she acts like a Jones. Set 13 years after the events of Children of Earth, the 456 have left their stamp on the earth and the government. The world is a very different place and Torchwood something that Jack doesn't want to acknowledge, but a promise made a long time ago brings him back to their door. Mica is in awe of a past she didn't know and a man she barely remembers, but her passion for his world takes her on a journey she never expected.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Life That Jack Built

**Author's Note:**

> huge spoilers for Children of Earth and in a universe where Miracle day never occurred.

Jack stood on the corner in the middle of the Cromwell estate and looked at it; the whole place looked like a scrapyard, with cars with no windscreens held up by bricks and rusted bikes in the gardens. One house was boarded, burnt through completely, with graffiti on the walls and holes in the roof; he could see needles on the ground in the grass and broken beer bottles littered the street. He looked up and saw a pair of shoes, laces tied together, hanging over the wire that connected the telegraph poles. It was a sad state, Britain was a sad state, but then again it had been for a while.

 

He looked at the gang of kids that sat on the wall in broad daylight; they were no older than twelve years old, but they were smoking and drinking proudly. The estate was nothing to be proud about. He had always had problems imagining Ianto living there, in the house on the corner where his sister now lived; he couldn't imagine him mingling with the kids on the walls or wearing a hoodie and smoking.

 

Jack looked over at the house on the corner and saw a man on the step; he held a drink in one hand and a cigarette in the other and waved. Standing up, the young man made his way over, flicking the cigarette on the ground and threw him arms around him.

 

“Back again?” He pulled away and looked at him. “You coming in?”

 

“Sure.”

 

David was older now, 22 years old, almost exactly as old as Ianto had been the first time Jack had met him, but he looked much younger. David didn't wear a suit, he didn't have a job to wear one to, but nobody did. 2022 was bleak. No jobs, no culture and no trust; the benefit system had gone into overdrive, with a benefit for everything from a broken thumb to early onset dementia. The nanny state was huge, with CCTV camera's hooked up to facial recognition systems; every movement was recorded and analysed, collecting evidence for crimes that hadn't even been committed yet. Everyone was a criminal in the eyes of the government, and that government, with it's spin doctors, secrets and corruption sickened Jack; it was one of the many reasons he didn't return for more than a few days at a time. Jack blamed them for everything bad in the world and they weren't doing anything to change his mind. A camera turned towards him and made a sound like a zooming lens and Jack glared into it until it turned away. The government had been keeping a close eye on him for a while, tracking his movement; it was either them or Torchwood and he didn't want to talk to either of them.

 

“Bloody security camera's,” David said. “Never know when to mind their own fucking business.”

 

“I'm used to it now.”

 

“They treat you like a bloody criminal. They're the criminals if you ask me. Murderers, every single one of them.”

 

“They treat everyone like a criminal.” Jack followed David inside and closed the door behind him, then hung up his coat.

 

“Mam! Uncle Jack's here!”

 

Rhiannon came into the hallway and hugged her visitor. She was older now, forty-one, with two grown kids that showed no sign of moving out. “God, it's depressing to see you.”

 

“Thanks.” Jack chuckled a little, squeezing her tightly.

 

“You look so bloody young.” She led Jack into the kitchen and switched on the kettle. “Cuppa?”

 

“Wouldn't say no.”

 

“Long journey?”

 

“Very.” Jack waved over at Jonny who sat on the couch playing a game on the computer. “Hey Johnny.”

 

“How's the aliens then?” Jonny asked, his gaze never leaving the flashing screen.

 

“Ignore him.” Rhiannon gave him a mug of tea. “Fish and chips for dinner?”

 

“Sure.”

 

“Jonny!” Rhiannon shouted. “Get down that chippy, and I want the good fish this time and don't go to the one with the lumpy gravy.”

 

“They all have lumpy gravy.” Johnny stood beside Jack and took the money that his wife offered from her purse. “You want peas, Jack?”

 

“No thanks.”

 

Johnny looked out the window and groaned when he heard the thunder; the rain wasn't far behind. 

“It's bloody raining now.” 

 

“Then you had better run then hadn't you, and take David with you.”

 

She watched them go, then turned around to Jack and smiled fondly. “Now, give me the gossip.”

* * *

Mica sat at the top of the stairs watching Jack as he talked to her mother in the kitchen. He had visited every few months for as long as she could remember, staying for a few days at a time to catch up before leaving to travel the universe again. She looked down at the PDA and tapped away at a few buttons; it was the only way to get any peace, the only way to keep Jack from harm and intrusion. Mica knew that she would get in trouble if the government found out what she was doing, imprisoned for her efforts most likely, branded a digital terrorist, but that was nothing compared to what her mother would do if she knew.

 

Jack caught her eye and she smiled, waving at him in the way she had done since she was five. She watched him as he excused himself from the conversation with her mother and joined her on the stairs. He sat down next to her, grabbing the PDA before she could even think about hiding it. 

 

“You're going to get arrested,” he said. “If the authorities ever find out you're not going to have a leg to stand on.”

 

“They're not smart enough to find out.” Mica shrugged. “They're stupid, the Government.”

 

“They're not as dumb as you think. They just don't quite realise who they're dealing with.” Jack smiled. “You have the mind of a Jones.”

 

“It's not hard. I just intercept the software when I see you coming and scramble the signal, then I replace your image with the image of someone else. It's a two minute loop and by the time they realise you're inside and out of their view. They just think it's a bug in the software.”

“You still need to watch it.”

 

“I'm one step ahead, it's Torchwood that I find it hard to fool. They're smarter than the government, nosier than the police.”

 

“Well, they learned from the best.”

 

“Mica!” The thunderous voice from downstairs made them both freeze and Jack did Mica a favour, hiding the PDA behind his back. “Did you do something to those camera's outside?”

 

“No. Why?”

 

“The engineers are out again!” Rhiannon stood at the bottom of the stairs, her arms crossed in that way she did when she was really angry. 

 

“Imagine that?” Mica stood up, taking the PDA from Jack to put in her pocket. “Must be a bug or something.”

 

“Oh a bug in their software again, is it?”

 

"I just wanted to help Uncle Jack out, keep the bloody Government off his back."

"I could bloody throttle you sometimes."

"I won't do it again.”

 

“You better not.”

 

“I'm going to go and-- do-- something else.” She backed away and headed towards her bedroom, fearing the certain wrath of her mother. “Later, Uncle Jack.”

 

“That bloody girl!” Rhiannon sighed and sat down beside Jack. “That girl will be the death of me.”

 

“She's clever though.”

 

“Ianto was clever too and look what happened to him.” Rhiannon looked down at her hands. “He was dead before he was thirty, dead at twenty-five, I don't want her to be clever if that's where it gets you.”

 

“When you say that I always feel as though you're blaming me.”

 

“I just wish he had been stupid. I wish he had worked in Debenhams like my Dad, or sat on the dole and drank beer. Maybe he could have worked in a bank if he wanted to make something of himself.” She sighed, holding her warm cup of tea in her hand. “But no. No, he wanted to fight aliens and save the bloody world. Stupid sod.”

 

“Ianto would’ve never been happy working in a bank.”

 

“Maybe not, but he'd be alive,” she said. “He’d be here annoying the shit out of me like he should be.”

 

“You don’t know that.” Jack looked down at his hands. 

 

“I suppose not.” She turned to face him. “I don't mean to blame you, it just comes out that way.”

 

“I know.”

 

“You bloody don’t, y’know?” She put her cup down onto the stair beside her, moving her hand to cover Jack's fingers, speaking slowly to make him understand. “You didn't kill my brother.”

 

“I may as well have.”

 

“It was his decision, you’ve said that so many times before. He wanted to save the world, he wouldn’t let you give in.”

 

“I know.”

 

“And what was he?” She asked him, a smile tugging at her lips. 

 

“A stubborn sod with a death wish.” Jack smiled as he said it, Rhiannon’s words from years ago. “I know.”

 

They heard the door open, then close with a bang. “Chips!”


	2. Promises Made.

Rhiannon put away the last final dishes from dinner and looked out the window; he was standing still there, he had been standing there since dinner ended just staring into space. Was he thinking about where he would go next, what he would do, or did Jack Harkness actually still stargaze? Her eyes followed him as he sat down on the grass and tucked his knees to his chest, running his fingers over something in his hand.

 

“What's he doing?” Johnny came up behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist. “He's a right odd bastard sometimes.”

 

“Oi!” Rhiannon nudged him away. “He's family.”

 

“He's still odd.”

 

“Look at him Johnny.” She held his arms around her and laced her fingers with his. “He looks so lonely here, so sad. Why does he even keep coming back?”

 

“There's an easy enough way to answer that.” 

 

Johnny let go of Rhiannon and grabbed two cans of beer from the fridge and took them outside. He walked down the garden path and stood behind jack, nudging him in the shoulder with one of the cans.

 

“Drink, Jacko?”

 

Jack put his hand up in the air and took the drink from the other man's hand and opened it. He didn't used to drink much, but Jack Harkness was a fast learner and what he had learned was that if Johnny offered him beer he should take it or face the consequences. Johnny sat down beside him. 

 

“Thanks”

 

“So.” He mirrored Jack's sitting position and took a few drinks, looking up at the sky. “Is he up there somewhere?”

 

“No.” Jack shook his head. “I've looked. Every planet I go to I hope there's a version of him, just standing there waiting for me to show up, but there never is. I've given up now, resigned to the fact the he's gone.”

 

“Not space you daft sod, heaven?”

 

“Heaven doesn't exist.”

 

“Then where is he then?” Johnny looked contemplative for a moment. “Is he in Hell? Because when I was a kid they used to say that if you were ga--”

 

“There's no hell.”

 

“So, if there's no heaven and no hell, where is he? Just floating around in the air?”

 

“You really don't want to know.” Jack ran his fingers over the stopwatch that he held in his hand, the hand ticking time away. “He's gone and that's all that matters, what does it matter where?”

 

“Rhi wonders,” he said. “All the bloody time.”

 

“Tell her that heaven exists. I don't know what she would do if she knew where he actually was.”

 

“She worries about you when you come here, she says you look depressed.”

 

“I like it here.”

 

“Here?” Johnny laughed and looked around. “You're bloody crazy, mate.”

 

“It's the closest thing to home. You, Rhiannon and the kids, you're the closest thing to a family that I've got.”

 

“They're hardly kids any more. David is twenty-two now, and Mica's eighteen. Neither of them show any bloody sign of moving out and giving us any peace and quiet.”

 

“Ianto would have been thirty eight.” Jack stared straight ahead, a slight smile curving at the corner of his mouth. “He would be freaking out about almost being forty, worrying about turning grey, starring in the mirror to see if he had wrinkles yet.”

 

“And how old are you then?”

 

Jack smiled and took a long drink. “I don't think I even know the answer to that one any more. I come back every few months, and to you he's been gone thirteen years, but for me it has been longer, a lot longer.”

 

“How's that?”

 

“I come back once a year, every year on the same day, but not in your time. I'm a year older every time you see me.”

 

“So how long has it been, for you like?”

 

“Seventy-two years and counting.”

 

“Bloody hell. So, this shit council estate in Wales is like your holiday?”

 

“I guess so.” Jack laughed.

 

“I'd rather go to Malaga myself, but I suppose anything is better than bloody Butlins.”

Johnny finished his beer and stood up and started to walk away. 

 

“I am still welcome, aren't I?” Jack asked the question without looking up and Johnny put a hand on his shoulder.

 

“Family is family. Ianto was family and you two were-”

 

“Together.” Jack smiled sadly. “A couple?”

 

“Yeah.” Johnny squeezed Jack's shoulder reassuringly; he might have been as rough as a bag of broken bottles but he had his softer moments. “A couple of daft sods in love, now put a smile on your face and stop being so bloody depressing. Ianto wouldn't have wanted that.”

 

Jack watched him go inside and lay down on the grass, looking up at the stars. Seventy-two years was a long time, even in his world, but the pain hadn't gone away. If he could stay away from earth, away from Wales, it would have been a little easier, but Jack never broke a promise.

* * *

_Ianto was down in the archives when Jack finally found him, filing away Toshiko's workings._

_“She never finished this,” he said, hearing Jack as he walked in. “A few more equations and she would have had it, but she never got the chance.”_

_Jack wrapped one arm around him, holding his back to his chest. “I know this has hit you hard.”_

_“She's dead, Jack.” He sighed and dropped the paper file. “And Owen, and God knows how many others there have been. Who's next?”_

_“If we asked that every time we lost someone then we would never stop asking.” He kissed Ianto's shoulder. “We need to carry on.”_

_“It'll be me. I'll be next, I know it.”_

_“Please tell me that we're not going to have this conversation?”_

_“One day it'll be me.” Ianto swallowed hard and closed his eyes, letting a tear roll down his cheek. “You'll be packing my work away and carrying on like any other day.”_

_“Never.” Jack hugged him tightly from behind and closed his eyes to savour his scent. “Carrying on without you will never be the same.”_

_“Yes it will. Your world won't stop just because I'm not in it.”_

_“Wanna bet?” Jack held him tighter, resting his head on Ianto's shoulder. “I'm not even going to think about that. I don't want to, not when I've just lost them.”_

_“I have family Jack, a sister, did I ever tell you that?” Ianto turned around._

_“A few times.”_

_“She has kids. Mica and David.” He put his hand on Jack's neck and kissed his lips softly, letting the taste of him linger. “When I die--”_

_“We're not having this conversation.” He pushed himself away, distancing Ianto by his shoulders. “You're not going to die any time soon.”_

_“Yes, I am.”_

_“I don't want to talk about this.”_

_“Well I do.” Ianto took his hand to stop him walking away. “They won't remember me Jack. I never see them, I'm always working, but I love them so much.”_

_“What are you asking?”_

_“Just protect them, keep them safe and don't let them forget me.”_

_“Ianto--”_

_“Promise me that you won't let them forget me.”_

_“I promise.” Jack caressed his cheek. “How could anyone ever forget Ianto Jones?”_

_Ianto wiped a tear and moved away from Jack. “You will.”_

__

* * *

Mica Davies peeked out in the gap between the curtains in her bedroom, watching Jack as he finally went inside; he had been out there for hours, just looking at the sky and pressing buttons on his wrist strap. Mica didn't know what he had been doing, maybe he was planning his next journey, but whatever it was it was taking some time. She heard a knock on the door and jumped back a little.

 

“Who is it?”

 

“It's Dave, open up ratface!”

 

“Hold on!” Mica walked over to the door, checking that her dressing gown was straight, then opened the door; she leaned on the frame.“What do you want?”

 

“Lend me a tenner till Monday.”

 

“No!”

 

“Come on sis.” He flicked her nose with his finger and she batted it away. “You owe me.”

 

“Not a bloody tenner I don't.”

 

“I'll pay you back, don't get your knickers in a twist.”

 

She sighed heavily and grabbed her purse from the computer desk. She took out a tenner and held it out to him then pulled it back. 

 

“If I lend you a tenner, and _lend_ being the most important part of that sentence, do you promise you will leave me alone?”

 

“Yes.” David tried to grab it, but she pulled it further away from his reach.

 

“And I'll get it back?”

 

“Yes.”

 

She pulled it away from him again. “Promise?”

 

“Yes. For God's sake just give it me!” He grabbed the money. “Oh, and by the way, I can see your jeans. If you're going to sneak out you should really be better at hiding it by now.” He pointed at her legs and at the smallest hint of rolled up denim. “I don't know why you bother sneaking out anyway, it's not like you're a kid any more.”

 

“You know what Mam is like.”

 

“Mica?” He narrowed his eyes. “What are you up to?”

 

Mica grabbed her brother by his Jacket and pulled him towards her, glaring through him with threatening eyes that only a sister could manage. “You need to learn to mind your own business.”

 

“And you need to learn to give gifts to your brother when he’s skint.” He smiled.

 

“Fine!” She let him go. “You can keep the tenner, but I don't take kindly to blackmail.”

 

“I'm your brother,” David said. “Blackmail is how I show you that I love you.”

 

“Bugger off.” She put her hand over his face and pushed him out of the door, then shut it.

 

“Thank you!”

 

Mica locked the door and hung up her dressing gown; she unrolled her jeans and pulled on her boots, then put on her short leather jacket. Grabbing the rucksack from underneath her bed, she walked back to the window and checked the garden again, scanning the whole area. When she was certain the coast was clear, Mica opened the window and sat on the windowsill, dangling her legs out. She checked her ponytail, making sure it was tight, and tucked it into the back of her jacket before zipping it up to her neck. She took her trusty PDA out of her pocket and pressed a few buttons, waiting a few moments until the thin metal poles stuck out of the brickwork on the side of the house; It was only half an inch but it was just enough.

Mica climbed out the window and lowered herself down the make-shift ladder carefully, jumping the last two feet. She stopped for a moment for the time to pass and waited to check that her escape route had disappeared back into the wall. After ensuring the wall looked normal again, she walked over to the fence, checking behind her, and climbed over it. When she hit the ground on the other side she looked at her PDA; Mica slipped her earpiece in and listened to the frequency signal, then turned to her left and started to run.


	3. Chapter 3

Mica walked in the house via the back door and took off her Jacket. She held it up and inspected it; there was a rip in it again but nothing that she couldn't fix. The blood on the collar was easily cleaned, that was the great thing about leather, but that rip really did need urgent attention. She sat down at the table and unzipped her boots before peeling them off her legs; they were covered in mud and needed a good clean before she used them again, but she was too tired to think.

 

“You're home late.” Jack stood in the doorway, his shoes off and his braces hanging loose. He had obviously been ready to climb onto the sofa and try to catch a few hours sleep.

 

“Am I?” Mica felt the kettle to check if it was still hot, then made herself a cup of coffee. She sat down at the table. “Do you want one?”

 

“I don't drink it.”

 

“Sorry, I forgot.” She shook her hair from her ponytail and wrapped the band around her wrist, then combed it out with her fingers.

 

“So, where have you been?” Jack asked, sitting opposite her.

 

“Pub.”

 

“Pub?” Jack raised an eyebrow. “Really?”

 

“Yeah. Pub.”

 

He leaned in close. “Funny, you don't smell of alcohol.”

 

“I had coke tonight, I like coke. I'm on a detox.” She looked into the corner of the room and let out a nervous smile.

 

“I see.” Jack sat back in the chair and crossed her arms. “And the mud on your boots?”

 

“I lost my keys in the bushes,” she said. 

 

Mica Davies was a good liar; she had one of those angelic smiles, a butter-wouldn't-melt quality that many people found it hard to see past. It helped her find her way through life, it helped her through the lie that she lived, but it didn't work with everyone. Jack was immune to her puppy-dog eyes and sweet smile; that trick had stopped working when she was ten. And as she looked at him over the table, now much more a woman than a cute innocent child, she knew that her secret was out. He knew she hadn't been at the pub, of course he did, but she could tell from his eyes that he didn't know where she had been; he could never find out.

 

“Just promise me that you haven't been doing anything dangerous or illegal.”

 

“Bloody hell, Jack!” Mica shook her head. “You're worse than my Dad.”

 

“Promise me.”

 

“Fine.” She sighed. “I promise.”

 

“I worry about you sometimes.”

 

“Why?” Mica shrugged. “I'm a big girl now, I'm not five anymore, I can look after myself.”

 

Jack leaned on the table and watched her drink her coffee. “You're too clever.”

 

“Well I'm very sorry that I have a brain worthy of more than finding creative ways to cheat the system.” She smiled at him and leaned across the table, meeting his eyes. “So, come on, tell me then.”

 

“Tell you what?”

 

“Where you've been this time, what you've seen.”

 

“You always need to know.”

 

“Of course I do.”

 

It was like a tradition. Every time Jack came back he would tell her his stories about his travel and she would sit there, every bit as amazed as she had been when she was a kid, and listen. Her brother had always been more interested in the monsters and the guns; she wanted to know how other worlds looked and the technology it had.

 

“I saw seven sunsets at once, all disappearing over the horizon of Kilac bay. Beautiful. Green skies and purple waters. You would have loved it.” Jack walked over to the wall and switched off the light, then returned to the table and pressed a few buttons on his wrist strap. An image came alive on the ceiling, showing pictures of the world he had just described. “I spent months there, but eventually I had to move on.”

 

“You never stay in one place very long.”

 

“I don't like to get attached.” Jack changed the image; visions of vast red deserts and streams that ran over rocks flashed in the dark. “I climbed the rocks there and when I got to the top I just jumped off.”

 

“Was it cold there?” she asked, her eyes wide with excitement. “It looks windy.”

 

“The breeze was warm.” Jack closed down the image. “I'll go back one day.”

 

“Would you take me there?”

 

“Mica.”Jack sighed; he didn't want this conversation again. “No.”

 

“This planet is so small,” she moaned, “I want to see more.”

 

“No you don't.”

 

“Every night I read his journals, one after another, talking about what he saw. Aliens and monsters and dinosaurs and technology. But that's old news. I've seen them all on the news, now I'm ready to see what he never could.”

 

“And what's that?”

 

“Other worlds, other planets.”

 

“No.” Jack closed his eyes and sighed. 

 

“He wanted to travel with you Uncle Jack, he always wanted more than the shit that came here.” She reached across the table and grabbed his hand. “He knew you would leave one day and he had no intention of letting you go without him.”

 

“I wouldn't have left.”

 

“But you will tomorrow. You'll look up at the sky, press a few buttons and away you'll go. You'll run away again. How hard would it really be to take me with you for a while?”

 

“Mica.” Jack kissed her hand. “He did not want that for you. He loved you and he wanted you safe. It's not safe out there.”

 

“He was never safe and he was happy.”

 

“No,” Jack's voice cracked a little. “And now he's dead. I punish myself every day for that.” 

 

“Jack--”

 

“End of conversation.” He stood up and leaned on the back of the chair. “Don't ask me again.”

* * *

Gwen Cooper opened her internal email with a lacklustre click of the mouse. It was almost time for home and she was ten emails away from her bed. It was late, but Gwen always worked late on a Thursday; it was her Government day, full of meetings in London with the PM and the secretary of defence, not to mention the idiot from UNIT.

 

She clicked through the emails.

 

“Boring. Boring. Boring. Government Rubbish. Chain email from Tim about lesbian aliens; I'll kill him when I'm less tired. Report on Retcon misuse at the zoo. Stationery order to be signed. Hate mail. Ianto thinking he's funny. Bogus report on--”

 

Gwen stopped talking to herself and scrolled back. Ianto Jones. That was a name that hadn't cropped up on her internal email for over thirteen years, and it wouldn't, given that he was deceased. She clicked on it and read it.

 

FROM: Ianto Jones

TO: Gwen Cooper

SUBJECT: End of the world.

 

We're all out of coffee. No idea how I ever let that happen. Nipped out, don't let Jack use the instant. I'll get you a doughnut and pass it to you under the desk in a brown paper bag. Jack must never know our secret, he must never know there are doughnuts between us, his muffin top is too big already.

Hold the fort,

Ianto.

xx

 

Gwen smiled and ran her fingers over the screen, then read the last words again. “Hold the fort,” she sighed. “I hate computer bugs.”

 

It had been the last email that he had sent, the day before the kids had started chanting, and she had deleted it the moment she read it. It had been just his kind of joke, one that she missed every day. She sighed and accessed Ianto's account; two words flashed up on the screen.

 

ACCOUNT REACTIVATED

 

“I wish.” 

 

She took a deep breath, desperately trying to get rid of that feeling, the one that still made her want to cry after all these years, and accessed the security settings. She took a moment and looked at the file photo; he looked so young. Of course Ianto Jones had been young, too young and far too brave. Gwen kissed her finger and pressed it to the screen, then clicked on the 'deceased' setting.

 

Two words flashed on the screen.

 

ACCOUNT DEACTIVATED

 

Gwen switched off the computer and put on her Jacket, flicking her hair over the collar. She walked through the hub, switching off the lights on the stations. As she was leaving something caught her eye; an image flashed up on one of the computer screens. It had happened again. Her visitor was back and it was going to be a little longer before she made it home.

* * *

Mica walked into her room and put away her things before sitting at her computer desk; she typed in a few commands onto the black prompt screen and waited for a blue box to appear.

 

The Cardiff CCTV system was very hard to get into. It was protected by a seventeen digit pass code that changed every twelve minutes, but Mica Davies was smarter than the average eighteen year old. She had Torchwood software that nobody knew she had, and she knew exactly how to use it. She opened her desk drawer and took out a memory stick, then inserted it into the drive; after a few moments the pass-code was in the box, 445-985-254-776-101-03.

 

“Come on baby,” she said, stroking the screen as the last digit fluctuated between 03 and 08. “You can do it.”

 

An image flashed up on her screen of the park. The three weevils were waiting, tied to a tree; it was her calling card. She zoomed in on the figure that came into view on the screen, then smiled.

 

Gwen Cooper looked at the camera and smiled, holding up her thumb as a signal, then scrambled the image with a device.

Uncle Ianto had wormed his way into Torchwood, and so could she; she was almost in.


	4. Chapter 4

Jack stood outside Mica's bedroom door and waited a while before finding the courage to knock.

 

“Hi.” She answered the door and stepped aside to let him in.

 

“Where have you been all day?”

 

“Busy.”

 

“Busy, huh?” Jack chuckled and tilted her face to look him in the eyes. “Not ignoring me?”

 

“Are you here to say goodbye again?” She closed her door behind him. “Because you're really good at that.”

 

“You can't be angry at me because I won't take you with me.” Jack sighed and sat down in her computer chair. 

 

“You used to tell me that when I was older you would think about it.” She sat down on the bed and crossed her legs. “You lied to me for all those years.”

 

“I didn't lie. I did think about it, and I decided that the answer is no. It's too dangerous, besides having you with me would limit where I could go.”

 

“Well, that's not selfish.”

 

“And asking me to take you with me isn't?” Jack sighed and walked across the room, then sat down beside her. “I travel alone, it's the only way for me right now. I need to be on my own.”

 

“And will you come back?”

 

“I always come back.” Jack wrapped his arm around her and hugged her tightly, kissing the top of her head. “I'll be back in a few months as usual. Maybe I'll even bring you a present.”

 

Mica smiled. “Really?”

 

“If I find something worthy of you, sure.” He stood up. “It's late, I should probably hit the hay.”

 

“Will I see you before you go?”

 

“Of course.”

 

“I always think, when you go, that maybe he was right about you.” She stood up and looked at him; she was a lot shorter than Jack, standing just over 5”2, and she had to look up just to see his chin. She spent most of her life talking to that chin.

 

“What do you mean?”

 

“Maybe one day you will just disappear and never come back.” She lowered her eyes. “That's what he always thought.”

 

“You really are too much like him sometimes.” Jack wrapped his arms around her and pulled her into a tight hug. “I left one daughter behind, I'm not going to leave you behind too.”

 

“Promise me,” she whispered. “You're the only person who really knew him. You're the closest thing I have to him and if you go I'll lose him forever.”

 

“I promise.” Jack's voice cracked as he whispered. “And I rarely make promises.”

 

“Okay.”

 

“You should sleep too. You were out far too late last night." He slipped his hand into his pocket and took out a small device; it was no bigger than the head of a pin and virtually invisible.

 

“I'm going to bed right now.”

 

“Good.” Jack caressed her cheek, attaching the device to the back of her neck as he did. “I'll see you tomorrow before I leave.”

* * *

Jack stayed a few yards behind Mica as she jogged through the darkness, heading towards the wooded area by the Park. Her boots sounded heavy on the pavement as she followed the signal on her PDA and ran at the same time; this wasn't something new, Mica had been doing this for a while. She stopped on the corner and looked around; Jack pressed his back to the wall to stay out of her sight.

 

She put her hand in her pocket and took out a device, a one Jack recognised well and held it up. The lights on the CCTV system went out.

* * *

Gwen Cooper jogged through the hub, skipping three steps of the ladder on her way down, and hovered over the shoulder of a girl who sat at a computer. She smiled. 

 

“Is it our little Zorro back again?”

 

“I think so.” Her fingers moved across the keyboard with precision as she looked through the system. “All the camera's just went out and I can see a collection of Weevil signals in the park. All the usual signs of our little visitor.”

 

“Can you unscramble the images?”

 

“No.” Claire shook her head. “Same technology as us, and you know how that works.”

 

“Show me the minute they went out.”

 

Another image appeared on the screen of someone holding up a device, but it was too far away to see anything other than her small frame. “From this angle it looks hopeful, however, when you access the facial recognition software it all gets just a little odd.”

 

“Odd how?”

 

“It’s all just a big joke.” Clare's fingers moved across the keyboard and brought up a history. 

 

“Coco the clown?” Gwen smiled when she saw the images. “Original. She either wants to get our attention, or she wants to remain unseen. Whichever it is I like her style.“ She sighed. “Go a little further back, track her journey, there has to be an image somewhere.”

 

“Well, this is interesting!” Another voice came from across the room. “Coco the clown, Nemo, Skippy, Ronald McDonald, Judy Jetson, Mickey mouse, Topcat, Freddy Krueger and, her personal favourite, Tin-Tin.”

 

“She's been messing with the system again I take it.”

 

“Yep.”

 

“It's starting to get a little annoying, but I do respect her sense of humour.” She smiled. “It's very Torchwood.”

 

“Hold on a minute, I'm getting something. You're going to want to see this!”

 

Gwen jogged over to the other computer station and stared at the screen. “Tim, is that who I think it is?”

 

“Captain Jack Harkness.” He pressed a few buttons. “By the looks of it he's been hanging around quite a lot recently, but always disappears from the system as soon as he steps into the Cromwell estate.”

 

“That's odd.” She leaned over him. “When did he first show up?”

 

“Just let me cross reference the systems--” It took a moment for the information to appear. “2009,” he said. “November 4th on the Cromwell estate.”

 

“Bloody Hell.”

 

“He's returned a lot since then. Several sightings all together, then nothing for months.”

 

“He's visiting,” she said. “And I think I know who.”

* * *

Jack followed Mica a little further, watching her as she approached the wooded area of the park and looked around. Mica looked over in his direction and he took a dive into the bush, landing uncomfortably with a thick twig in a place that a twig had no business to be. Jack clamped his teeth down on his bottom lip and squeezed out a few painful tears before removing the leafy branch from between his legs; it had been a long time since he had tracked anyone, and he didn't remember it ever hurting so much.

 

Mica put down her rucksack behind a tree and opened it; she pulled out two guns and loaded them, then pushed them into the waistband of her jeans. She loaded another and held it in her hand as she moved silently, checking her PDA at the same time.

 

“What the hell is she doing?” Jack whispered to himself. 

 

A familiar sound came from the other side of the Park and Jack knew it immediately. He looked over and saw them, three large Weevils closing in on Mica, but she knew they were coming. She ran at them, kicking one in the face whilst she shot the other; the third was taken out by her elbow and the fourth that lurked in the dark just growled. Jack watched as she put a bullet through another Weevil's head, right between the eyes, and kicked the third down to the ground. She stood on its neck, her foot just a breath away from it's jaws and emptied the barrel into its chest.

 

Mica threw the empty gun towards her rucksack and pulled out the others from her belt as she walked around slowly, creeping around in the darkness, waiting. She caught the site of the fourth Weevil, and from quite a distance, shot it with both guns until it fell where it stood.

 

Jack could see a Weevil behind her that she couldn't, sneaking up silently with salivating teeth and dead eyes. Whatever signal she was looking at didn't tell her it was there; he watched it as it got closer, edging towards the young woman, and growled. There were others, too many for her to handle; Mica was surrounded by growls and teeth and eyes. She fired her gun at three of them and took them out, but when she went to shoot the fourth the barrel was empty.

* * *

“I think our little Zorro might be in a spot of bother!” Gwen picked up her guns and tucked them into her belt. “There's loads of Weevils out there and she's good, but she's not immortal.” She pulled Tim up by the hood of his shirt. “You come with me, Claire you're my eyes and ears.”

 

“What are you going to do?” The blonde turned around from the computer and looked at her.

 

“She might not be one of us yet, but I can't stand by and watch a pack of Weevils tear her limb by limb. Besides, I really want to know who she is and I'm getting to the bottom of this tonight!”

 

“What about Harkness?”

 

“I'm bringing him in. He's got a hell of a lot of explaining to do.”

* * *

Jack could see Mica backing away towards him, unarmed and scared; she kicked one between the eyes and punched the other, but it didn't stop them.

 

“Over here!” Jack stumbled out from the bush whistled to get their attention. “Remember me?”

 

They focussed their attention on Jack and left Mica alone, wandering closer to him and exploring a scent that they recognised from a long time ago.

 

“No Weevil spray and clamps today boys, just you and me. Just like the good old days.”

 

“Jack!” Mica's voice spat at him from his left. “What are you doing here?”

 

“Saving your ass!” Jack said.

 

“I was coping!”

 

“Could have fooled me.” Jack braced himself as the two Weevils launched themselves at him, biting his arms and his neck. He groaned and kicked them off one by one, then picked a stick up from the ground, using it to strike them over the head. “Who do you think you are, Buffy the Vampire Slayer?”

 

“Who?”

 

“It was a TV show,” Jack groaned. “Good cast actually, musical episodes weren't bad!”

 

“Thanks for the pop culture lesson Uncle Jack, but I'm really not sure this is the time.”

 

He heard a shot and one of the Weevils dropped to the ground, paralysed; the other gnawed away at his neck, stronger than Jack remembered, and tried to chew through his jugular.

 

“There's too many of them!” Jack said, pushing one off him just a the other one attacked. “Run!”

 

“I'm not leaving you!”

 

“Listen to your Uncle Jack and just run!”

 

“I don't run, that's not who I am.” Mica scrambled to find the extra tranquilizers in her bag and loaded them into the barrel of the gun quickly, then fired three of the four shots into the pack of Weevils. Only one remained and it was at Jack's neck, too strong for him to fight.

 

“Just run!” Jack shouted. “I'll be fine!”

 

Mica fired a shot into the back of the Weevil's head, but it was too late.

 

Jack let out an almighty roar as the teeth ripped through his neck. The last thing he remembered was the crunching of bones and blood; his world faded to black.


	5. Chapter 5

“Jack!” Mica pulled the Weevil off Jack and sat on the ground beside him, touching the blood on his neck. “Uncle Jack?” She shook him violently by the lapels of his coat and pulled his head onto her lap, slapping his cheeks. “Come on! Please!”

 

Jack showed no signs of moving, and the blood from his neck was still flowing over Mica's fingers, seeping into the creases of her skin. His eyes were locked open, cold and dead; his mouth was open too, still in the midst of a scream that never got the chance to escape.

 

“Jack!” Mica held onto him, holding him close against her; she touched his cheek and caressed his face, looking at the coldness of his eyes as they stayed open, staring. Her breath caught in her throat and her heart started to beat just a little faster.

 

“Jack?” Her voice started to crack and a lump in her throat formed; her eyes felt hot, stinging from unwelcome tears, and she felt the cracks in her heart break again. She sniffed back tears and took a deep breath, then shook him again. Mica repeated his name but her mouth wouldn't let it escape; she was starting to loose hope. Her Uncle's diaries had talked about the many deaths of Jack. He had written about how the blood would just disappear, wounds would heal and Jack would wake with a burst of life and a gasping breath; he also wrote that one day he was scared he wouldn't. That day had come.

 

“Oh God!” Mica dropped his body and stood up; she pressed her hands to her face, leaving fingerprints of blood on her cheeks. “Oh God, Jack.”

 

She looked around, cold and alone, and crushed the skull of the Weevil beside her with the heel of her boot out of anger, then did it again and again until the bone was crushed into the dirt. A sound came from behind her; one of them was trying to move and she knew she had to act fast.

 

She dragged them towards the thickest tree one by one using every ounce of strength she could muster, then grabbed the thick rope from her bag. She tied them to it binding them as tightly as she could then collapsed on the ground. Mica wept into the dirt, mixing the blood underneath her fingernails with sodden mud, and glared into the dead eyes of the monsters as they slowly regained consciousness. She found her strength and stood up, dragging dirt into her eyes as he tried to wipe away her tears, then fell back down.

 

Her tears stopped flowing suddenly when she heard a gasp from behind her, and she got up, stumbling over to Jack as she woke.

 

“Jack!” She flung her arms around him as he came back to life.

 

“You’re in so much fucking trouble.”

 

“I thought you had--”

 

“I wish.” His voice was groggy and when she helped him sit up he groaned in pain. He turned his head to one side and his neck made a loud clicking noise. “Ah! Not had that painful a death for a while.”

 

“I'm so sorry!” She helped him to his feet and supported his large frame. “We need to go before they get here.”

 

“Before who get here?”

 

“Shit!” Mica saw a light shining through the trees and pulled Jack into the bushes, pushing him in before she joined him.

 

“This is no time for hide and seek!” Jack whispered. “Now are you going to tell me--”

 

Mica put her hand over his mouth. “Shh!”

 

Jack looked between the gap in the bushes and focussed on the bright light, watching with shock as he saw Gwen Cooper come into view. She looked older, but it was definitely her; she was still alive.

 

“Bloody Hell!” Gwen crouched down on the ground beside the weevil and poked the inside of its head with the tip of her gun. “That's just lovely.”

 

“Looks like Zorro could handle herself after all.” Tim joined Gwen and put on a pair of examination gloves, then turned the Weevil onto its front. “It was shot before its head was flattened.” He opened his bag and took out a pair of tweezers, then used them to pick out the tranquilizer from its back.

 

“Is it the same?”

 

“Yeah. Definitely Zorro.” he inspected the bullet. “I would love to know where she got these made. They're almost as good as ours.”

 

“Why always Weevils though?” Gwen took out her gun and shot the waking Weevils between the eyes, sending them back into their paralytic state. “Why not something else?”

 

“No idea.”

 

Gwen looked around. “Well, she's nowhere to be seen now. Let's get these boys back to the hub before they wake up again.”

* * *

Mica splashed her face with cold water then leaned on the sink before looking at herself in the mirror. Her eyes were bloodshot, still encrusted with a little dirt, but at least her face was clean. She swept her hair back again, pulling it into a ponytail and took a deep breath. She was a mess.

 

She walked out of the bathroom and back into the all-night café, sitting opposite Jack. She hung her head low and wrapped her hands around the hot cup of coffee; she needed it.

 

“So, are you going to explain to me exactly what you were playing at?”

 

Mica stayed silent and looked down at her hands; she couldn't look at him, she couldn't meet his eyes, not when she knew the look that she would find there. Between her father, her mother and Jack she felt suffocated. She had been wrapped in cotton wool her whole life, stopped from so much as crossing the road without a health and safety assessment, and now he was being stared at in that usual way. She was the baby of the family, the one who couldn't take care of herself, at least in everyone else's eyes but her own, and that was something she knew she would never change.

 

“I’m waiting,” Jack said. 

 

“It has nothing to do with you,” she said. “I have a life of my own.”

 

“Obviously.”

 

“You had no right to follow me Jack.” Mica looked at him from across the table. 

 

“No?”

 

“No.” 

 

“And what do you think your parents would say?” Jack asked. “What would _Ianto_ say if he were here?”

 

“He would be proud of me.”

 

“No. He would think you had a death wish.”

 

“I Want to be like him.” Mica looked down into the depths of her coffee. 

 

“Dead?” Jack asked. “Because that’s where you’re heading if you go on like this.”

 

“I was fine. I was coping.”

 

“What the hell were you doing fighting Weevils in the first place?”

 

“You want to know?” She asked, leaning over the table. “You really want to know?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“Because it's what he did.” Mica raised his eyes to look at him. “It's how he met you. It was the start of the rest of his life. I want to know the life he lived first hand.”

 

“A Weevil almost tore out your jugular!” Jack shouted at her under his breath.

 

“Exactly, almost.” She spat. “My juglar was fine, your jugular wasn't quite so lucky though, was it?”

 

“I was saving your ass!”

 

“I was safe.” She took his hand. “I know what what I'm doing, just let me live my life.”

 

“You could’ve got really hurt!” 

 

“I was fine until you came along with your big flappy coat and hero act and stuck your ore in.”

 

“You almost got yourself killed!” 

 

“I know and I love it.” She smiled. “It's fun.”

 

Jack laughed, more from bemusement than anything else. “Fun?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“Fun?!” He laughed again and repeated the word to himself in disbelief. “Fun. It was fun?”

 

“Yeah, fun, you remember what that's like, don't you Jack? Or is that part of you gone too?”

 

“Ianto died--”

 

“Oh give it a rest!” She stood up and dropped some money onto the table then leaned on the back of the chair as she tucked it in. “You go on and on about how he died, it's like you forget that he ever lived.”

* * *

Gwen sat at her desk and searched through her database as she took a sip of her cold coffee. It was quiet in the hub now that the others had gone home to their families and their beds, but she had something to do before she could get back. The facial recognition database was starting to help her build up a clearer picture of Jack's movements over the last thirteen years. He had visited the Cromwell estate much more than she had first thought; a few times in 2010, then again in 2011. After that he had started to visit a lot more often. In 2012 his face had popped up on the database seventy-nine times, yet he hadn't been back to Torchwood. He hadn't come back for her.

 

She clicked on one of the old Images and loaded the recording of one such visit in 2015, seven years ago, and watched it. Two kids seemed very happy to see him and ran across the estate to greet him, followed by two faces that Gwen remembered clearly.

 

She closed her eyes and sighed, shutting down the software, then picked up her phone and dialled a number.

 

“Hello, is that Rhiannon?” She smiled. “Gwen Cooper here, I'm sorry to call so late.”

* * *

Jack followed Mica down the street, jogging after her until he caught up.

 

“Mica!”

 

He was running by the time he finally caught up with her, matching her pace; Jack Harkness may have been immortal but he wasn't immune from passing out from a stitch. He pulled at her arm, but she moved away.

 

“Wait!” Jack finally pulled her to a stop.

 

“I'm not Alice you know?!” Mica turned around. 

 

“What?” Jack stepped back, shocked by her words; he hadn't heard that name mentioned for a very long time. 

 

“I'm not your daughter!”

 

“I know that.”

 

“Do you?” she asked. “Are you sure, because you spend more time behaving like my Dad than you do my friend.”

 

Jack regained his breath. “Am I so wrong for wanting to keep you safe?”

 

“I know you mean well.” She calmed down and sighed. “I have reasons for wanting to live my life this way, would it really be so hard to respect them? I'm not five years old any more Jack, I'm big enough to tie my own shoes and make my own decisions.”

 

“I can't bear to see you end up like him.”

 

“But he ended up a hero Jack, you told me that so many times.”

 

“He was brave and he died a hero, but if he hadn't been so brave then maybe he would be here now.”

 

“Well, I'm proud of who he was.” She put her hands on his shoulders. “That's why I'm doing this.”

 

“And what are you doing?”

 

“I'm going to get into myself into Torchwood.”

 

He shook his head. “The hell you are.”

“I wasn't asking your permission.”


	6. Chapter 6

Rhiannon made her way down the stairs and tied her dressing gown around her. The house was dark, barely lit by the light outside the window and she had to feel around the walls to guide herself. Sleeping wasn't easy for Rhiannon, especially after a blast from the past like Gwen Cooper and lying in bed wasn't going to get her anywhere. She walked into the kitchen and saw a figure sitting in her seat; he clutched a glass of whiskey in one hand and the bottle in the other, his head flat against the table. Jack Harkness wasn't sleeping, he just didn't seem to have the energy to hold his head up.

 

“What's wrong with you?” She put her hand on his shoulder and his head moved from its position to look back at her. “Drinking never does you any good.”

 

“I can't sleep.”

 

“Well this won't help.” She moved the bottle away from his hand and sat down. 

 

“It might numb me a little.”

 

“You break my heart when I see you like this.”

 

“Sorry.” Jack sat back in his chair. “I'll be out of your hair tomorrow.” 

 

“Don’t be like that with me,” she said. “You know youre always welcome in my house and when David finally gets off his arse and moves out you can have his bed instead of the old sofa.”

 

“I like the couch.”

 

“Do you want to talk about it?” She asked, leaning over the table to take his hand. 

 

“You don’t need to worry about me.”

 

“I can't sleep and I would like to feel like I'm doing some good.”

 

“It’s not really something I can talk about, but thanks for asking.” He smiled a little, squeezing her hand. “What are you doing up at this ungodly hour anyway?”

 

“Gwen Cooper,” she said simply, leaning back in the chair. “She called me tonight looking for you.”

 

“What did she want?”

 

“She wanted to know if I had seen you recently. She seems to want to talk to you about something, but she wouldn't say what.”

 

“And what did you tell her?”

 

“I said I hadn't seen you,” she said. “Not seen you in years and wouldn’t know you if I passed you in the street.”

 

“Thanks.”Jack smiled.

 

“Are you in trouble?”

 

“No.”

 

“Promise?”

 

“Cross my heart, hope to die. “ Jack promised, tipping his head to drain the last dregs of whiskey from the glass. “I’ll even stick a needle in my eye.”

 

“You’re drunk, aren’t you?”

 

“I’m not drunk,” he said. “It takes a lot more than this for me to get drunk. Plus, I can still feel my fingers and they’re always the first thing to go.”

 

“Well, I don’t think you should drink anymore tonight.” Rhiannon took away the bottle before he could grab it. “I’ll make you a nice cup of tea instead.”

 

“I don’t want tea.”

 

“You’re getting tea, like it or not.”

 

“Thank you.” Jack said. “I love how you always look after me, even when I don’t deserve it.” 

 

“I’ll always look after you.“ Rhiannon sat next to him and put her arm around his shoulder. “You’re my brother now, so I don’t have a choice.”

 

“No, I’m not.”

 

“Yeah, you are.” She pulled him into a hug, letting him rest his weary head on her shoulder. “You annoy me, you boil my piss sometimes, but I love you and there’s no escaping this family.” 

 

“I love you too, I love all of you.” Jack wrapped his arm around her, settling into the warm comfort of her shoulder. 

 

“You’re being really strange tonight, are you sure you’re not in some kind of trouble?”

 

“I promise.” Jack sat up again. “I don’t know why she wants to speak to me.”

 

“Good. Torchwood are nothing but trouble and I don't want no more trouble at my door; no more guns in my kids’ lives.” 

 

“Y'know, in this world you can't stop them from seeing guns and danger. You just end up driving them away.”

 

“I can try to protect them, can’t I?” She asked. “That’s my job, isn’t it?”

 

“You're such a good mother.” Jack kissed her hands. “David and Mica are so lucky to have you.”

 

“I do my best.”

 

“I was a really bad father,” he said. “I didn’t do the whole protection thing too well and I’m pretty sure that If I ever got the chance again I would probably still fuck it all up.”

 

“That’s bollocks.”

 

“People are better off away from me, why do you think I go away so often?”

 

“Youre such a mess tonight, aren’t you?” Rhiannon sighed. 

 

“I miss Ianto so much when I’m here,” Jack explained sadly. “When I’m out there I can just about function, but here is just so hard.”

 

“Then as much as I would miss you, maybe it’s not the place for you to be anymore.” 

 

“No.” Jack shook his head. “I feel his presence so strongly here, I could never let that go.” 

 

“Sometimes it feels like he’s just going to walk in the door, doesn’t it?” she asked.

 

“Yeah.” 

 

“I bloody wish he would. I'd have words with him I tell you, I would. Going off and getting himself killed, breaking your heart, breaking mine. Selfish sod.” 

 

“You wouldn't,” Jack said, smiling a little. “You'd be too happy to see him.” 

 

“I'd bray him, I swear I would!” She gave in, laughing a little. “Then I'd hug him and make him a sandwich.”

 

“You couldn’t resist.”

 

“What's this, insomniacs anonymous?” Mica stood in the doorway hiding a paper file behind her back. “I wasn't expecting competition for the kitchen table at this time of night.”

 

“Shove the kettle on love,” Rhiannon said. “I'm chokin' for a cuppa and your Uncle Jack needs to sober himself up and stop feeling sorry for himself.”

 

Mica sighed and did as she was told; she filled the kettle and switched it on, then took the bottle of whiskey from the table and put the cap back on. “No more of this Uncle Jack,” she said, “you're leaving tomorrow. You need to be hydrated.”

* * *

Gwen crept into the house, trying not to be seen. It was past two in the morning and if Rhys caught her just sneaking in he would have a moan; she had been good at coming home recently, sometimes even making it home for tea, but tonight was different.

 

“Dirty stop out.” Rhys switched on the lamp in the living room behind Gwen as she attempted to climb the stairs. “There's casserole in the oven, I'd say I would heat it up but I suppose it's a little late now.”

 

“Sorry.” She dropped her bag beside the stairs and walked over to her husband, then sat beside him. “You didn't have to wait up for me.”

 

“A call would've been nice.”

 

“I got busy.”

 

“You always get busy, but you always call.” Rhys sighed a little. “You could’ve been halfway through a Weevil’s small intestine for all I knew.”

 

“I should’ve called.” Gwen lifted his arm and ducked underneath it, resting her head on his chest. “Funny day, that's all. Sorry.”

 

“What happened?”

 

“Blast from the past.” She sighed. “Jack Harkness.”

 

“Jack?” Rhys move away from her and turned a little. “What about Jack?”

 

“He's back, he's hiding from me like a bloody coward, but he's back.” She kissed his lips softly. “Why is he hiding from me?”

 

“I dunno do I? I never understood him to start with.”

 

“I did.” She rested her head on him again and hugged him tightly. “He never came back to see that I was okay Rhys, not once.”

 

“You saw him the night he left Gwen, he's not the same man that you knew.” Rhys stood up and took her hand, leading her towards the stairs. “Forget him.”

 

“I need answers.”

 

“No.” Rhys pushed her towards the stairs and slapped her backside gently. “You need sleep. Right now. Come on.”

 

She turned around. “I will get answers.”

 

“Fine, tomorrow you get answers. Tonight you sleep.”

 

“Alright.” Gwen turned on the stairs and cupped his cheeks between her hands. “I love you.”

* * *

“Well, I think I better go and see if I can get a few hours sleep.” Rhiannon stood up from the table and ran her fingers through her hair. “You coming sweetheart?”

 

“Not yet.”Mica shook her head. “I think I need another cup of tea first.”

 

“Okay.” She kissed Mica's head and then Jack's. “But don't leave it too late, you told Sue that you would cover her shift at the laundrette tomorrow morning and I don't want you letting her down. I'm sick of you and your brother rotting away in your pit's till midday like school kids on holiday. You're adult now, you need to learn to act that way.”

 

“I won't be long.” she promised.

 

“And you, Harkness, you can do the dishes now you’re a little more sobered up.” She smiled and handed Jack two cups. “Make yourself useful for once.”

 

“Not a problem.”

 

“If he's still snoring when I get back up there I'm going to shove my foot so far up his arse he’ll think someone is kicking him in the throat.” Rhiannon made her way out the kitchen. 

 

Jack laughed and stood up, taking the cups to the sink as she shut the door; he rolled his sleeves up before running the water and putting in the soap.

 

There was silence in the room for a moment. Mica made herself a cup of tea with two sugars and half a bottle of milk and watched Jack. She walked up behind him and wrapped her arms around him, resting her cheek on his back.

 

“I'm sorry.” She said. “Please don't leave tomorrow and be angry with me.”

 

“I'm not angry with you.” Jack continued cleaning.

 

“I love you.” She tightened her grip. “You annoy me so much, but I love you.”

 

“That’s exactly what your mother said.” Jack smiled fondly. “I love you too.”

 

“And my family.” Mica closed her eyes and rested on his back. “I love my Dad to bits. I love it when he steals a fiver from Mam's purse for cigs and she finds out and brays him with the phone book. I love the way that David will stand up for me and never let me down, even it means spending a night in the cells after he bashes someone's face in.”

 

“Yeah.” Jack laughed. “Sounds like David.”

 

“We're common as shit and I think it's fantastic.” She sighed. “But I don't need someone else protecting me.”

 

“I just don't want you hurt.” 

 

“I know.”

 

“Tonight, you mentioned Alice.” Jack closed his eyes and lay his hand over Mica's fingers. “It’s been so long since anyone mentioned her name.”

 

“I was angry. I didn't mean to--”

 

“No.” Jack sighed. “I lost her forever when I did what I did. Torchwood, the government, the 456, I don't know who was worse in the end. We all murdered, but I was the only one to murder my own. I lost my Daughter, my Grandson and Ianto all in the space of twenty-four hours and all because of me. I still see the blood on my hands.”

 

“But it's done now.”

 

“You're the closest thing I've got to a daughter, and you're everything I would want her to be.” He turned around. “Strong, brave, beautiful, independent, proud.” Jack smiled and tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear. “And God are you ever careless and headstrong.”

 

“I learnt from the best.” She smiled, then looked up at Jack. “I have one overbearing Dad already, I don't need another one.”

 

“Mica--”

 

“No. Listen to me.” She cut his sentence short before it could even form. “Sometimes I feel like you hold me back. It's like I have wings, but instead of helping me spread them you're cutting them off every time you see them grow.”

 

“I don't mean to.”

 

“Of course you don't. You're my best friend Jack, so help me. Talk to Gwen, get me into Torchwood.”

 

“No.” Jack sighed, sat down at the table and ran his fingers through his hair. “I don't want Torchwood to ruin your life.”

 

“Help me get in.”

 

“No.” Jack shook his head. “No way. Torchwood and his job there killed him, I refuse to have a part in your death too.”

 

“For God's sake!” Mica slammed her hands down on the table and made Jack jump. “Torchwood didn't kill him, you didn't kill him, the government didn't kill him. The 456 killed him!”

 

“And that was partially my fault.”

 

“Yeah okay, maybe it was but you can't change that.” Mica picked up the file she had hidden behind the microwave earlier and put it down on the kitchen table. “The 456 killed him, but I can change all that.”

 

“What are you talking about?”

 

“I can change things.” She opened the file and pushed it in front of him. “With the help of this.”

 

“What’s this?”

 

“My homework,” she said. “I always was a good student.” 

 

“Mica!” Jack looked at the file, every page covered with a classified watermark. “This is classified information!”

 

“I hacked into the integral Torchwood database using Uncle Ianto's access code, then made it look like I was never there.”

 

“You’re crazy, but he would’ve loved you so much.” Jack chuckled a little. "This is exactly the kind of shit he would've pulled, too."

 

“Want to see?”

 

“Not really.” Jack looked at the document, written on Torchwood paper. It had detailed instructions on a device that even he hadn't seen before, with pages and pages of mathematical equations. He cast his eyes over all the pages, and gazed at photographs of a small flat object.

 

“I don't know what it is, but I know what it does.” She took the paper from him. “It's a very simple piece of technology, but one that didn't originate from this earth. It's an automatic autopsy.”

 

“How did you even get this information? Torchwood archive is iron clad."

 

“You said it yourself.” She smiled. “I'm clever.”

 

“I didn’t think even you were this clever.”

 

“Well I am.” She smiled again, turning to one of the pages. “It doesn't work and I know why. These equations, they're wrong somehow. Now I don't know exactly how they're wrong but if I can figure it out I can fix it. And I will fix it because I can fix anything.”

 

“I don't understand.”

 

“If I can get this to work I can do amazing things.” She pointed to a paragraph. “Read that.”

 

“The technology is advanced, but does not seem to be sinister. If this device could be amended to work on the biology of the human body, instead of the extraterrestrial, the advances in human science would be unheard of. Autopsy would no longer be complex and not at all invasive, with precise cause of death available within seconds.” Jack shook his head. “I don't get it.”

 

“The plan to develop this was shelved,” she explained. “Torchwood didn't see the potential in something that just made an autopsy a little quicker and clean cut, but I do.”

 

“What potential?”

 

“This device, if reprogrammed to work on the human body, would give a precise list of all toxins in the body at time of death. It can give you much more advanced toxicology and and even give a breakdown of individual particles. I could use it on Uncle Ianto.”

 

“So?” Jack asked. "We know how he died."

 

“But if I can find out what was in his body when he died I could eliminate all the ones you would expect to see. It would leave me with a detailed rundown of all the chemicals used to make the virus that killed him, even chemicals that don't exist on this planet.” she smiled. “Then I can make an antidote. He can come back, Jack. I can do it, I know I can.”

 

“Mica.”Jack stared at her, then at the document before returning to her eyes. He took her hand. “I know you feel like you never knew him and I know that you so desperately want to, but this is going way too far.”

 

“I'm not doing this for me,” she said. “It has nothing to do with me.”

 

“Rhiannon?”

 

“No.” She shook her head. “I'm doing this for you, Jack. You have no spirit behind your eyes any more; you're not the man he loved, the man he would do anything for. You're amazing, but you're not the man I read about in his diaries.”

 

“He's gone.” Jack lowered his eyes. 

 

“But I need him, I need that fighter behind your eyes that you lost so long ago. This isn't about bringing him back, it's about bringing you to life.” She cupped his face. “For a man that can't die you look pretty dead to me.”

 

“No.” Jack shook his head. “I wont do it, I won't put you in that much danger. He's gone but you're still here.”

 

“So you won't help me?”

 

“I can't.”

 

“Then I'll have to find a way to do it on my own.”


	7. Chapter 7

Gwen cooper clutched her Starbucks in her hand as she walked into the empty hub; it was early, a little too early considering the events of the night before, and the double espresso was doing little to take the edge off her tiredness. She hung her keys on a hook outside her office door and walked inside then shrugged off her coat. She opened up the paper bag and took out a jam doughnut; it would dent her waistline, she knew that, but there was something rather comforting about fresh coffee and a jam doughnut. It reminded her of the good old days.

 

“I can't say that I altogether approve of the refurbishment.” A voice from the past came from the shadows. “A little too Ikea for my tastes.”

 

Gwen dropped the bag, leaving the doughnut still sticking out from between her teeth, and drew her gun. She turned it on the figure that stood in the corner and watched as he walked into the light. Jack Harkness looked just the same. He dressed in his usual boots, dark trousers, light blue shirt and braces, but his coat was missing; he didn't even have a gun. He held his hands up in surrender.

 

“Don't let me interrupt your breakfast.”

 

She took the doughnut out from her mouth and wiped it then loaded a bullet into the chamber of the gun. “Give me one reason Jack.” She walked closer to him and pressed the gun to his forehead. “Just one reason.”

 

“For what?”

 

“One reason why I shouldn't put a bullet through your head to check if you're still immortal.”

 

“I don't have one.”

 

She fired the gun, sending a bullet through his head and out the other side. Jack dropped to the ground, lifeless and still; Gwen sat down at her desk, put her feet up and continued her breakfast.

* * *

David walked into the Laundrette carrying a bundle of brown paper tied with string over his shoulder. He made his way to the counter and jumped up on it then rang the bell repeatedly.

 

“Service wash!”

 

"What?!" Mica appeared from the back room with a scowl.

 

“Bloody hell!” David almost fell off the counter from laughing. “Don't you look glamorous!”

 

Mica looked down at her uniform; the smock was green and yellow with a white pocket at the front. “Don't take the piss.”

 

“I can't do that.” David grinned. “It's not in my nature not to mention how bloody ridiculous you look.”

 

"Don't be a dick!" She pushed him off the desk. “What do you want?”

 

“Service wash.” David put the package on the desk. “Jack's coat.”

 

She put it on the desk and wrote out a blue ticket then handed it to him. “Tell him it'll be ready at half twelve and he owes me £8.90.”

* * *

By the time Jack came back to life Gwen had finished her breakfast; she sat behind the desk and pushed a mug of steaming tea towards the other side with her foot.

 

“You never drank my coffee,” she said. “Only his would do.”

 

“He did make very good coffee.”

 

She smiled, then let it fade. “He did.”

 

“Better than yours.”

 

“Oh, miles better.” Gwen smiled for a moment, somehow feeling as though she had been catapulted thirteen years back into their usual banter. 

 

"You're looking great," Jack said. 

 

"Bullshit. I look old."

 

"You still look great." Jack got to his feet and walked over to the desk, his fingers fidgeting with the collection of artefacts on her Perspex desk. “So, you kill me and then give me tea. A novel new approach to greeting visitors if you ask me.”

 

“Sit!” Gwen barked.

 

“Yeah, missed you too.” Jack did what he was told and sat down, then took a drink and looked over the desk at her. She didn't look happy; her lips were pursed in that way they did when she was angry and if he looked at her complexion carefully he could almost see her blood pressure rising. Her hand held her gun, tightening her grip and then letting it go. “I'm sensing that you could be a little angry with me.”

 

“Really?” She loaded her gun. “So, does getting shot still hurt?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“How much?”

 

“A lot.”

 

“Good.” She shot him again, this time in the arm, taking pleasure when he almost fell off the chair. 

 

“Ow!” He grasped his arm, groaning at the pain and his eyes rolled back into his skull a little. “What the--?”

 

“How about that?” she asked. “Did that hurt?”

 

“Yah!"

 

“Then I'm happy.” She locked her gun in the drawer. “And I'm done.”

 

“I--”

 

“Why didn't you come back Jack?” Her tone softened a little; she was ready to talk. “What did I do that was so terrible?”

 

"Nothing." Jack sighed and looked down at his hands. 

 

“Do you blame me?” She waited for an answer, but Jack gave her nothing. “Do you?”

 

“I blame Torchwood, I blame myself."

 

“Then why did you punish _me_ Jack, why didn't you come back?”

 

Jack stood, his wound now healed and walked around the desk. He crouched down beside her chair and turned it to face her then took her hand. “I know you're not going to believe this, but it was for your own good.”

 

"Bollocks!" She moved her hand away from his touch. “How could it ever have been for my own good? You left me to rebuild Torchwood and fight on my own.”

 

“You and Rhys and the baby--” Jack took her hand again and looked up till he found her eyes. “You were a family. Look what I did to Ianto's family."

 

"You didn't do anything."

 

"I tore it apart. I didn't want to be to blame for that happening again.” He felt his voice crack and the pieces of his heart shatter; he felt his eyes heat and his vision blurred as tears coated his eyes. “I lost him and I didn't know what to do, so I left. I couldn't come back to Torchwood, not when he wasn't here.”

 

“Oh, Jack.” She put her hands on his face, touching his cheeks for the first time in so long. “I lost him too.”

 

"Not like I did."

 

"You're not the only one who has feelings." Gwen slipped her hands away. "I lost two of my best friends."

 

“I broke his family,” Jack said. “I couldn't bear to think that one day I would break yours too. You and Rhys and--” He paused. “And--” 

 

“A girl. Anwen.” Gwen smiled. “Seven pounds three ounces, sixteen hours in labour and beautiful."

 

"That's great." Jack stood up, looking at one of the pictures on her desk. "Is that her?"

 

"She was three then, she's much bigger now."

 

"She looks just like you."

 

"Then two years after that we had a boy to complete the set." Gwen picked up another picture and gave it to him. "We called him Ianto."

 

"Really?"

 

"Nine pounds and three ounces. Huge he was and right on time. He had a full head of thick dark hair and bright blue eyes.” She took the picture back, putting it back on the desk with a few of the others. “It seemed so fitting."

 

“He would have loved that.” Jack sighed, slumping down into the chair. "I'm sorry I didn't visit.” 

 

“It's okay.” She ran her hand over the bloodstain on his shirt. “I'm sorry I shot you. Twice.”

 

“I'll live.” Jack looked up at her. “Would you have done it if you thought I wouldn't come back?

 

“No. But I may have still knocked you out.”

 

“Nice to know.”

 

“So, why now? Why did you come back after all this time? Was it because we came looking for you?”

 

“No.” Jack sighed. “I have a proposition for you.”

* * *

Jack closed the door to the Laundrette and sat down on the bench between the washing machines. He waited for her to materialise and smiled as he heard her sing along to the radio in the back; she didn't have the best voice, far from it, but it was marginally better than nails down a blackboard. He lay down on the bench, waiting for her to come into view.

 

“No wonder you don't get much business.”

 

“How long have you been there?”

 

“Oh about two verses and a chorus.” He smiled. 

 

“You should have rang the bell.” Mica walked over to him and lifted his feet off the bench, pushing them back on to the floor.. “Feet off. There's a sign.”

 

“No smoking?” Jack asked. 

 

“Don't be smart, it doesn’t suit you.” Mica disappeared back into the room. “Have you come for your service wash?”

 

“Oh aren't you just a regular Dot Cotton.” He leaned on the desk, his finger playing with the old fashioned bell.

 

“Are you trying to be funny?” She appeared in the doorway with the coat, then hung it up as she rushed to look at the stain on his shirt. “What the hell happened to you?”

 

“Oh, that?” Jack moved her hand away from the healed wound. “I got shot, but I'm fine.”

 

“You should change.”

 

“You really are a Jones.” 

 

“I'm a Davies,” she corrected. “ _Not_ a Jones.”

 

“Is that ready?” He pointed to his immaculately clean coat. “It's looking good.”

 

“Yeah. £8.90.” She held out her hand and waited.

 

“What, no mates rates?”

 

“No.”

 

“Daylight robbery.” Jack sighed and dug his hand into his pocket, then put some money in her hand. “Keep the change.”

 

“Oh, thanks!” She turned around to put the money in the till. “Ten whole pence, I'll buy a fur coat.”

 

Jack laughed for a moment and put his hands in his pockets as he walked around the small shop, his fingers running over the machines. 

“So.” Mica sighed without turning to face him. “Are you off then?”

 

“Yeah.”

 

“Are you coming back?”

 

“Of course I am, I wouldn't leave you to your own devices. You simply can't be trusted.”

 

"Whatever makes you come back is fine with me." Mica took the coat off the hanger and helped Jack into it, smoothing down the cuffs and the lapels. “Nice and clean, especially for your travels.”

 

“Thanks.” He took her hand. “One day I _will_ take you with me, I promise.”

 

“You will?”

 

“Yes. But not this time. I have somewhere I need to go and people to see.”

 

“You don't need to explain yourself. I know taking me with you isn’t as easy as it sounds.”

 

“Will you miss me when I'm gone?”

 

“Barely," she said, shoving his shoulder roughly. "I already have one shadow, I don't need another one."

 

“I was thinking about your little plan today,” Jack said. “And I was thinking that maybe you have a few holes you didn't think of.”

 

“Such as?”

 

“Well--” Jack leaned against the desk. “As disgusting as it sounds, you would need to dig him up.”

 

“So?”

 

“His body wouldn't be in any fit state, it's been thirteen years. You're going to be lucky if there's enough of it left to test let alone heal.”

 

“I know.” Mica sighed. “You’re right.”

 

“He would look like a zombie, he just isn’t preserved enough.”

 

“I didn't think about that.”

 

“Unless of course you got hold of a device that could rebuild the cells.” He smiled. “Like the one Torchwood has hidden away in their vault that they hardly ever venture into. Maybe it would be in Vault twenty-four or somewhere like that. But that's just a guess, of course.”

 

“How would you know that?”

 

“Gwen Cooper has always spent way too long in the bathroom when you slip a little something into her coffee. “Jack smiled. “You're not the only one who knows their way around the Torchwood computer system you know?”

 

“You're sneaky.”

 

“I know. Also, whilst I was there I pulled a few strings.” Jack sighed heavily. "I wasn't happy about it, but I did it anyway, seen as you're so determined."

 

“Really?” A smile slowly crept onto Mica's face and she crossed the shop towards him.

 

“Tomorrow. Two thirty outside the Norwegian church and don't be late. Gwen hates tardiness.”

 

"Thank you!" Mica threw her arms around him, hugging him so tight he thought he was going to die for the third time in two days. He couldn't find the ability to smile; seeing her happy just didn't seem to be as important as keeping her safe.

 

“I only did this to stop you putting yourself in unnecessary danger to get their attention and you need to promise me something.” Jack pushed her away to arms length and focussed on her eyes. “Remember that there is no shame in running away and hiding is okay, too. Don't be brave for the sake of being brave."

 

“I run really fast!”

 

“I’m serious.” He tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “I want you alive when I come back.”

 

“Don't worry about me.”

 

Jack kissed her cheek and stepped away from her; he opened his wrist strap and pressed a few buttons, then he was gone.


	8. Chapter 8

Jack said a quick thank you to the UNIT official and closed the door behind him. It was a small viewing room, tucked away in the depths of Westminster where all the others had gone after being removed from the large viewing hall. Jack cast his mind back to the sight of it; so many bodies all in a line wrapped in red silk sheets, their awful death hidden from the eyes of those who didn't want to see. But he had woken up there in the middle of it all, the only one with another chance, another breath. He was the only one that could never escape death; death was his life.

 

All the other bodies were gone now, transferred as per families instructions and Government policy, leaving just one. The room had been tastefully decorated with white sheets and beautiful flowers, with the body lying on a platform much more easily accessible than the floor, but it didn't make the sight any easier.

 

Ianto Jones didn't deserve this end.

 

He walked over to him. It had been over seventy-five years but as he got closer the breaks in his heart started to give way and the pain came back. The cuts seemed deeper than before, as if they had festered away until the hole in his heart had become an infinite space of nothingness. His lip trembled and a film of tears blinded his vision; his breathing got faster until he was almost hyperventilating and his chest seemed tight. Jack wondered if this was what it felt like to die of a broken heart.

 

Jack reached his cold lover and stood beside him, touching his face; he looked so young lying there, too young, almost younger than he remembered him ever being. His tears escaped from his eyes and rolled down his cheeks, splashing on the material of Ianto's shirt. Jack felt the need to apologise for causing an imperfection.

 

“I'm sorry.”

 

Jack touched his suit and smoothed his fingers over his waistcoat letting them run over the perfection of the thread. Jack smiled sadly; Ianto Jones was perfect even in death. No hair out of place or crease in his tailoring, even the angle of his tie was right, but somehow it all seemed wrong. Nothing about his perfection was right; it was too perfect, too still, too stoic. There was no hidden smile on his lips, or contemplation on his brow, just stillness in death.

 

He closed his eyes and leant down to kiss his lover’s still lips, lingering for a moment as though he was waiting for a response; his sobs broke the connection between them and Jack caressed his face. He climbed up beside him and rested his head on his still chest just like he used to do and closed his eyes, but there was no heartbeat under his cheek like there used to be, his breath couldn’t warm his skin anymore.

 

“How could I forget to tell you that I couldn't go on without you?” Jack's words were as broken as his heart. “I didn't know how much I needed you until you were gone.” He lay there for a moment, clinging to his shirt as he wept. He had no dignity to protect anymore, no reputation to uphold, no lies to tell his lover. Jack didn’t need to protect him from truth, or protect himself; in that moment Jack Harkness had nothing.

 

“I always thought that the pain would go, y'know? I thought that the numbness would stop like everyone before and I would forget the pain and remember all the good times we had.”

 

Jack crawled up his body a little and lay his head next to Ianto's and stroked his hair. “It didn't work like that, not this time. I don't smile and remember the good times, I remember is _this_.” He caressed his cheek and fought his sobs to find his voice. “This is it. You, young and so cold, and me without you for _ever_.”

 

Jack's tears flowed faster than he could stop them, so he let them fall. He looked at his face and kissed his forehead; his skin was cold and didn't feel like it used to, his scent was gone too. The 456 had taken everything.

 

“I never told you how I felt, not in so many words.” He wiped his eyes so he could see Ianto's face clearly, but more tears came and his blindness returned. “I was scared. I thought that maybe I didn't really feel it, that my mind was playing games with me. I didn't want to love you, I tried so hard not to.” Jack swallowed hard, pouring his heart out to someone so still made no sense, but he carried on. “I didn't realise how much I needed you until it was too late, and then you were gone.”

He kissed the cut on his cheek, now etched into his features for eternity. 

“If I could rip a hole in time and take you out of it I would in a second.” Jack took a deep breath and swallowed back his tears. “I broke my promise to you. I said I would keep her safe, but the thought that she could bring you back has made me so, _so_ selfish. We need to try. Rhiannon needs you; I need you.”

 

Jack climbed down and straightened Ianto's clothes again. “One day I'll kiss you and you'll kiss me back again.” He kissed him softly. “I can't wait.”

 

The door opened and Jack wiped his tears before turning around. This wasn't part of the plan. Rhiannon stood there alone, staring at Jack as he stared back. He stopped himself from walking over and hugging her; she didn't know him yet. She had always talked about the day they met in Westminster, but he had never remembered and at that moment he finally knew why.

 

“You're Jack, aren’t you?” she said. “They told me you were here and that I could wait but I wanted to see you.”

 

“You must be his sister.”

 

“Rhiannon,” she said.

 

“He talked about you.”

 

“Well.” She looked him up and down then smiled just a little. “He said you were very handsome and he wasn't wrong was he?”

 

Jack managed a small laugh, aching to reach out and pull his friend close, but he couldn’t. He watched her as she walked over to him, stopping a few feet away. 

 

“Is that really him?” She sniffed back her tears and put her hands over her face to wipe them away. “There's been no mistake, has there?”

 

“No.” Jack shook his head. “I'm sorry.”

 

“There's been mistakes before. You read about it all the time, don’t you? People being identified wrongly and turning up a week later at their funeral wondering why everyone is crying. Maybe he got out?”

 

“He didn't get out.” Jack put his hand on her cheek and wiped away her tears. “It's him. I wish it wasn't, but it is."

 

“Then I guess I should say goodbye to my baby brother, then.” She was brave at first, not crying as much as Jack had always presumed, but then something clicked and her emotions came falling out her eyes like broken pieces of her heart.

 

“I'll give you some time alone.” Jack went to walk away but she caught his hand.

 

“When our Mam died he and Dad held my hand. I had one on either side. Then Dad died and I only had one.” She smiled fondly. “Ianto held my hand so tight that I thought it was going to drop off.” She tried to keep herself together but Jack could tell she was fighting a losing battle. “He was always the strong one in times like this, even if it was all a front. Now who have I got, who the hell is going to hold my hand and pretend everything is fine?”

 

Jack gripped her hand tightly. “I can if you want.”

 

Rhiannon squeezed his hand and then took a deep breath. She turned to face Ianto and then turned away quickly, pressing her face into Jack's chest. “I don't want to look at him.”

 

“Yes you do.” Jack moved a step back and cupped her face. “He looks beautiful, Rhi."

"He does?"

"Peaceful. He looks just like he did when he was sleeping.”

 

“And you know how he looked when he was sleeping?” she asked. 

 

“I--” Jack closed his eyes, but the tears still came. “I watched him all the time.”

 

“So, you two were together properly? Because I don’t think he really knew.”

 

“I Cherished him," he whispered. "Until his last breath and beyond.”

 

"Did you love him?" she asked. "Like _really_ love him?"

 

"So much."

 

She smiled. “He deserved that.”

 

“He did.” Jack let go of her. “You need to be alone with him. I said my goodbye and you need to, too.”

 

Rhiannon nodded. “Can I ask you one more thing, just in case I never see you again?

 

“Anything.”

 

“Was he good at his job?” She looked at the floor. “It was his life and what killed him in the end, I need to know that it was all worth it.”

 

“One of the very best. He was my most loyal soldier until the end.” Jack felt his strength leave him and let go of her quickly. “I'm very sorry for your loss.”

 

"And me."

Jack walked out the room and watched through the glass panel of the door as she walked over; she collapsed onto his body in tears and held his hand. She stroked his face and kissed the top of his head then sat down in the chair beside him and said her last goodbye.

* * *

Jack looked at a piece of paper and checked the address closely before he knocked on the blue wooden door. He waited for an answer and when the young woman finally opened it, he smiled.

 

“Lois Habiba?”

 

“Captain Harkness.” She smiled. “I thought you left, Gwen said you were travelling for a while.”

 

“I am travelling, just making a little stop here. Do you mind if I come in?”

 

Lois stood aside and let him in, then took a deep breath before closing the door. They sat down in the living room. It was clean and comforting with orange lampshades and a deep chocolate carpet; the pictures on the walls were printed canvas of Elephants and Zebras. It looked like a next catalogue had exploded.

 

“You have a nice home.”

 

“I try to surround myself with nice things.” She sat down on a chair and gestured for Jack to sit on the couch. “What can I do for you Captain?”

 

“You say you talked to Gwen Cooper?”

 

“I did.”

 

“Did she offer you a job?”

 

“I'm moving next week, Gwen said I could stay with her until my flat was ready.”

 

“She's kind,” Jack said. “There are worse bosses than her.”

 

“But, Captain I thought--”

 

“I won't be returning to Torchwood.”

 

“I see.”

 

“I've come here to ask you something,” Jack said, taking a deep breath. “It's important, but it’s highly classified and Gwen mustn't know you're doing it.”

 

“Why?”

 

“You can trust me.” He sighed. “Can I trust you?”

 

Lois nodded.

 

“There's a body in Westminster, Ianto Jones. He was part of my team.”

 

“I heard.”

 

“His sister will need his body taken to Cardiff for his funeral. I told her that it was Torchwood policy that coffins of all personnel are sealed before transportation in order to remain secure.” He looked down at his feet for a moment, then raised his eyes again to met her eyes. “That's not true.”

 

“What is this about?”

 

“You need to organise to transport his body back to Wales, but you must not let them have his real body. I've got a double for him, some poor old soul found in a reservoir and if they never find out they will never know.” He sighed. “His actual body is to be transported to Cardiff in secret tomorrow afternoon and I want you to store it secretly exactly where I tell you. Can you do that?”

 

“Why?” she asked. “What for?”

 

“Can you do that?” Jack asked her, slowly this time.

 

“Yes Captain.”

 

“Good.” He handed her an envelope. “These are detailed instructions as to what needs to happen. You have to destroy these after you've done what I ask, and Gwen Cooper must _never_ know.”

 

“I don’t think I understand.”

 

“You don’t need to.” Jack made his way to the door. “You'll be financially rewarded one they're carried out. It should set you up for life.”

 

“What if I don't do it?” she asked, her voice calling him back. “What if I refuse?”

 

“You're a nice person, Lois.” Jack smiled and touched her cheek, lowering his voice to a whisper. “I would really hate for something horrible to happen to you.”

 

“Are you threatening me?”

 

“I’m making a promise.” 

 

“It _sounded_ more like a threat.”

 

“Do we have a deal, or not?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“Don’t make me come back and visit you.”


	9. Chapter 9

Jack pushed his key into the lock and opened the door. The room was dark, lit only by the street lamp outside but he could still see the room clearly. It was a neat little flat, not extravagant, but neat and everything had its place without it seeming unwelcoming. The magazines would be resting neatly in the rack and the remote controls would sit on the bottom shelf of the coffee table, just like they always were; there was a bowl beside the door only for keys and beside it, underneath the picture of a silver Aston Martin DB5, was a money box for any loose change that happened to be weighing him down.

 

Jack dropped the key into the bowl and hung his coat up on the rack beside the three-quarter-length grey Jacket. He smoothed down the material of the other man's coat and let his fingers linger on the fabric for a while.

 

If the Doctor knew he would doing this he would go crazy; he didn't like Jack to travel and mess with his timey wimey things. All things timey wimey were sacred to him, and he had been told on their last chance meeting that if he made his timey wimey detector go ding one more time he would disable his vortex manipulator for good. Going back in time so often just to lie in bed with Ianto could never be justified, not in the Doctor's eyes, but Jack didn't care about what anyone thought any more. He took off his shoes and put them next to Ianto's on the mat by the door and checked to make sure they were straight before walking through the living room.

 

He stared at the pictures on the wall. One of Ianto's mother and father, one of him and his sister and one of Mica and David; there was none of Jack. He opened the door to the bedroom and walked inside, staring at the lump in the duvet.

 

Jack took off his shirt and trousers, draping them over the chair, then sat down to remove his socks.

 

“Stop sneaking around.“ Ianto's voice was groggy and half asleep, he didn't even open his eyes. “Get into bed or get out. I'm tired.”

 

Jack smiled and walked over, then leaned across the bed and kissed his exposed shoulder. “You're cranky.” He smiled. “I love how Welsh you get when you're cranky.”

 

“I was sleeping, now I'm not. Cranky is justified.” Ianto spoke into the pillow and pulled the duvet back a little. “Get in.”

 

Jack took off his under-shirt and climbed in beside him then pulled him close. He kissed his shoulder and took in the scent of his neck, then stroked the skin on his stomach. He lay there for a moment, feeling the warmth of Ianto’s skin against his own and the beating of his heart. 

 

“Why are you being weird?” Ianto asked.

 

“I'm _not_.”

 

“Yes you are.” Ianto rolled over and rested his head on Jack's chest; he yawned and made himself comfortable. “You're always weird when you sneak in like this. Clingy and weird.”

 

“Bad weird?”

 

Ianto smiled in his half-sleep. “No.” He kissed Jack's chest. “Just different. I swear you're a different man sometimes.”

 

“I miss you.” Jack pulled him close and kissed the top of his head. 

 

“I saw you two hours ago.” Ianto's fingers strayed below Jack's waistline. “You were pretty tired when I left.”

 

“Oh yeah?” Jack smiled. 

 

“Yeah. You said you couldn't move your legs to come over tonight.”

 

“I did?”

 

“You don’t remember?”

 

“I do.” 

 

“I thought I had tired you out enough already tonight.” Ianto kissed Jack's neck and shifted his weight, moving to hover above him. 

 

“Never.”

 

“I was expecting some recovery time.” His kisses littered Jack's jawline as his fingers stroked him through the material of his underwear. “You could’ve called first, I would have been more prepared.”

 

“We don't have to--”

 

Ianto's kisses silenced him and as his hips rocked against him Jack lost all rational thought. He pulled the Welshman's lips towards his own and savoured the taste of him, letting him dominate him and push him into the comfort of the crisp white sheets. When he moved his kisses back to his jaw, Jack pushed him away a little.

 

“You know that I don't just come here for sex, don't you?” he said, touching the warm skin on his face; he missed the warmth of his skin. “I don't need to tonight.”

 

Ianto smiled and ran his fingers through Jack's hair, pushing it away from his face. “Are you dead against it?”

 

“No.”

 

“Well that's good.” He returned his lips to his lover's and caressed his mouth with a long kiss. “It really is okay if you did though.”

 

“But I didn't.” Jack distanced him a little again to allow himself to speak. “This, us, you know that it's more than that, don't you?”

 

Ianto backed away and gazed at Jack, then stroked his cheek with the pad of his thumb. “What's wrong?”

 

“Nothing.” Jack's voice cracked without warning and he took a deep breath to combat it. “I just wanted you to know, that’s all.”

 

“I do know. Now tell me what's wrong?”

 

“Nothing.” He shook his head and pulled Ianto back to his lips. “I’m fine.”

 

“You're not.” Ianto hovered above him and gazed into the depths of his eyes. “Tell me.”

 

“I can't.” Jack sighed, closing his eyes to avoid the younger man’s gaze. 

 

“You never talk to me any more. You hide from me and I hate that.”

 

“I don't mean to.” Jack kissed him. “I just think too much.”

 

“Tell me. I like to hear you talk and I hate to see you bottle your shit up, then suffer.”

 

“I don’t suffer,” Jack said.

 

“You do it all the time and I can’t bare to watch it, so save me the pain and talk to me.”

 

Jack closed his eyes and took a breath, trying to fight the emotions that wanted to escape; he breathed through the pain of his broken heart. “The end of you.” He spoke, but knew that he shouldn't have. “I just don't want it ever to be the end of you.”

 

“Don't be daft.” Ianto whispered in the dark. “I'm not going anywhere.”

 

“You will one day. Too cold, too young and I will never forgive myself for letting you into this dangerous world.”

 

Ianto rolled onto his back and pulled Jack's head onto his chest. “I love this world,” Ianto said. “it's my life. _You're_ my life, Jack.”

 

“I shouldn't be.”

 

“But you are.” He caressed Jack's face, the wrath of his fingers lingering on his skin. “I'll never apologise for that.”

 

“It just scares me.”

 

“Listen.” Ianto sighed and kissed Jack's head; he rested his chin on his hair and closed his eyes. “We both know that I'll never make old bones, not in this job, but when I go you'll have memories.”

 

“But I can't make any new ones.” Jack's tears finally fell. “You'll be gone and I'll be alone again. The end never comes.”

 

“Is this about Owen and Tosh again?”

 

“A little.” Jack lied. He always lied. “More about you.”

 

“Go to sleep,” Ianto said. “I've got to be up in five hours and my boss is a right tyrant.”

 

Jack laughed a little, lifting his head to kiss his lips. He let it linger for a moment to savour it. “Will you make me some coffee before I go?”

 

“I always do. You and your coffee”

 

He looked up and the Welshman met his eyes. “I love your coffee.”

 

“I know.” Ianto pulled the duvet over them and held Jack tightly. “Goodnight.”

* * *

It had been the early hours of the morning when Ianto had woken with Jack still lying on his chest. He hadn’t been sleeping, just lying there listening to the beating of his heart and his steady breathing, his fingers curled around his wrist to feel the younger man’s rhythmic pulse. Jack had kissed him, a soft burning kiss that made him feel like nothing else existed and they had made love, the slow kind that only happened in the middle of the night. Ianto had clung to him, watching his face as he entered into a different kind of bliss, savouring every touch and every kiss, feeling every slow thrust as he moved inside of him. His kisses had been warm and caressing, savouring the taste of him on his mouth as though he were the last thing he would ever taste. They had both climaxed with eachothers name on their lips, but other words had been kissed away by slow loving kisses.

 

Jack had pulled him back to his chest and wrapped his arms around him, littering his skin with small kisses, his fingers stroking his skin. They had been lying there for what seemed forever, savouring the silent bliss of rare precious moments.

 

“I love it when you stay,” Ianto broke the blissful silence. “Even if it’s not for that long.”

 

“I’d stay forever if i could.”

 

“I’d let you, too.”

 

“I know I don’t always treat you like I should,” Jack said, pressing a soft kiss against the Welshman’s neck. “I should stay more, but I don’t.”

 

“You treat me fine.” Ianto pulled his arms even tighter around him, closing his eyes to feel the closeness of their bodies. “I take whatever you offer. I know it's more than what some people get, so I’m happy.”

 

“Are you though?” Jack asked. “Are you happy?”

 

“I can’t pretend that there aren’t things I wish you could give me, but it’s enough.”

 

“That’s not what I asked.”

 

Ianto tilted his neck and removed his arm from Jack’s grasp, slipping his fingers around the back of the older man’s neck. He pulled his lips down to him, arching his neck to reach, and kissed him softly. 

 

“I’m happy.”

 

Jack smiled against his lips and kissed him again, taking time to cherish the feel of him before he moved away again, settling back down into their lazy embrace.

 

“Do you think we could do this all day?” Ianto asked. “I’m sure the end of the world isn’t going to happen on a Tuesday.”

 

“I wish we could.”

 

“Me too.”

 

“I’ll never forget this though,” Jack whispered, his fingers wrapping around Ianto’s wrist to feel his pulse. “The warmth of your skin, the beat of your heart, that smell of half-washed out aftershave and something else I can never _quite_ identify. You’re burned into my memory for all eternity and at the end of the world, when everything burns around me until there's nothing, I’ll still remember this.”

 

“That’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever heard.” Ianto turned around in his arms, slipping his leg over to straddle him a little. He put his his hands on Jack’s face and kissed him softly, letting the kiss linger on his lips for a moment before the older man pulled him back for another. Ianto smiled against his lips, his eyes closed in bliss. "It was quite romantic.”

 

“It was wasn’t it?”

 

“Very.”

 

“’I’m sorry I don’t tell you more.”

 

“You don’t need to.” Ianto ran his fingers through Jack’s hair. “This is enough.”

 

“God, I love--” Jack stopped himself and took a deep breath, closing his eyes. “I love it when you do that."

 

"Do what?"

 

"Kiss me. I love it when you kiss me."

 

"I know you do," Ianto said, pressing a slow burning kiss onto his lips. "That's why I do it every chance I get." 

 

Jack savoured his kiss, pulling him close; he could feel his emotions rising again, heat returning to the backs of his eyes. "I should go. You need your rest and I'm not helping."

 

“I’ll go and make your coffee.” Ianto climbed off, sitting on the edge of the bed to slip on his underwear. He smiled a little when he felt Jack kneel behind him and wrap his arms around him. “Don’t worry. I’m not going to remind you of this tomorrow.”

 

“What?”

 

“I know nights are hard for you sometimes, I understand why you just want me to forget you were even here.”

 

“Thanks.”

 

“You shouldn’t be embarrassed about being vulnerable once in a while.”

 

“How do you always understand me?” Jack asked, pulling him back to press a kiss against his neck. 

 

“I’ve always been the observant type.” Ianto stood up. 

 

“Come back here.” He pulled him back by his wrist, then yanked him down to kiss him. “Remind me never to forget how good you are to me.”

 

“Any more of this bloody silliness and I’ll have no option but to remind you about how romantic you were to me tonight,” Ianto warned gently, pressing a kiss to his lips. 

 

“Okay.” Jack kissed him once more before letting his fingers slip away.

 

“You _are_ lucky, though.” He said, slipping on a t-shirt. “Not every man has someone to make him fresh coffee at four in the morning.”


	10. Chapter 10

When Jack got back to Cardiff it was raining and the familiarity of it made him smile. He put his head back, basking in the coolness of the rain and opened his eyes, letting the droplets drip off his eyelashes. He hadn’t been away as long this time, just a week or so, but he missed the place.

 

He walked through the estate and stopped when he got to the house and smiled, holding a small red object in his hand; he threw it up in the air and caught it again before making a jog for the house to avoid getting too wet. Taking his keys out of his pocket, Jack unlocked the door, taking a moment to smile at the monkey keyring that dangled from the lock.

 

“Anyone home?” Jack walked in the front door and narrowly missed breaking his neck on the bag in the hallway. He hung up his coat up and knocked the rain off his head the best he could. “It's really coming down out there!”

 

“Shhh!”

 

Jack followed Rhiannon's hushed voice into the living room and threw his keys onto the kitchen table. Looking down at her he smiled at the sight of her and the sleeping baby in her arms. 

 

“If you wake her up, I’ll bray the living hell out of you, Harkness!” She warned in a whisper.

 

“Sorry.” Jack smiled and sat down beside her. “Granny duty?”

 

“Sam had to work and David buggered off because he’s a shit Dad!”

 

“Rhi!” 

 

“Well--” Rhiannon looked at Jack, continuing their whispered conversation. “He is. He never bothers. She's a toy to him.”

 

“he’s young,” Jack said. “He’ll learn.”

 

“He’ll never bloody learn if he keeps ignoring his responsibility, will he?”

 

“Where is he?”

 

“Do you need to ask?”

 

“Pub?” he asked and Rhiannon gave her a nod of her head to confirm his guess. “Do you want me to go and drag him out by his ear?”

 

“No. it's fine,” she said. “He’ll come back when he’s skint.”

 

“He’s a good kid.”

 

“I know.” She gave him a thankful smile. “So, did you have fun on your travels?”

 

“I did and I didn't,” Jack said, putting a friendly arm around her. “Some was sad, some was wonderful.” 

 

“Do you feel any better?” 

 

“A little.”

 

“You usually come back with a little smile on your face, or a tale to tell, what’s wrong?”

 

“Nothing.” Jack tried to smile. “I was just remembering the first time we met, that's all.”

 

“You went back there,” she said with a sigh. “Didn't you?”

 

“It was horrible,” Jack confessed. 

 

“Then why did you go?”

 

“I was in the right time, visiting an old friend, I couldn’t not go.”

 

“How did it feel?” Rhiannon asked. “After so long?”

 

“My heart died a little more,” he said. “I didn’t think I could hurt any more than I did already, but I was wrong.”

 

“Don’t do it again, Jack. It’s time you made peace with it, you can’t go on punishing yourself.” Rhiannon looked down at the baby in her arms. “He would’ve hated you to hurt like this, he would’ve wanted you to get on with it.”

 

“I talked to him,” Jack confessed. “I went to his flat in the middle of the night and it was like he was still here with me. He kissed me and he was real again.”

 

“Jack--”

 

“I missed his voice. Sometimes I’m scared that if I don’t see him once in a while I’ll stop remembering it.”

 

“Why do you torture yourself like this?”

 

“Its not torture.” Jack smiled a little. “It’s wonderful, it breaks my heart, but it’s worth it just to see him.”

 

“Soft sod.” Rhiannon kissed his cheek, .

 

“I brought you a gift back from my travels,” Jack said suddenly, changing the subject.

 

“Oh no,” Rhiannon cringed. “It took us months to get rid of those floating balls last time.” 

 

“I didn’t realise they were going to do that.”

 

“And it ate the neighbor's cat!” she complained. “I had to tell her I’d seen it ran over by the rag man.”

 

“This won’t eat anything, I promise.”

 

“Is it alien?” She asked suspiciously.

 

“Well, yeah. All the best stuff is.”

 

“Does it have buttons?” 

 

“No.” Jack handed her a small red ball about the size of a small marble. The surface glimmered and glowed, heating the air around it. 

 

“What is it?”

 

“A vocal teleportation articulator.” 

 

“And what am I supposed to do with it?” 

 

“You talk to it and it replies,” Jack explained. “Theyre great for knock-knock jokes. They laugh too, if it’s funny.”

 

“That’s a bit pointless, innit?”

 

“Not when you hear who you’re talking to.”

 

“I don’t want to talk to a bloody alien!”

 

“No.” Jack laughed. “There’s a tiny part of Ianto’s DNA inside and it replicates his voice and personality. I figured that if I missed his voice, you would too, so I took a trip.”

 

“Where did you get it?” Rhiannon looked at it closely. “It’s beautiful.”

 

“Torkratucion,” he explained. “It’s a cluster of planets in a totally different solar system. They had a civil war a long time ago and lost so many of their own that they created these things to help ease the pain. I thought you might like it.”

 

“I love it.” Rhiannon smiled, then it faded. “But I feel a little bad now.”

 

“Why?”

 

“Well, when I went to Tenerife I only bought you back a bloody keyring shaped like a monkey. It seems a bit crap now.” 

 

“It’s the thought that counts.”

 

“Thank you.” Rhiannon took the object from him and looked at it. “I might not use it just yet.”

 

“The thought freaking you out a bit?”

 

“A little bit, yeah. Thanks though.”

 

“You’re welcome.

 

“Do you mind taking her for a bit?” Rhiannon slipped the baby into his arms. “If I put her down before she’s properly asleep she’ll scream the place down.”

 

“Oh, sure.” Jack took the bundle and relaxed back a little, shushing her a little when she stirred.

 

“You’re a natural.”

 

“I’m very old,” Jack said, “I have a lot of practice.”

 

“I promised Brenda I would pop over to her Avon thing tonight, do you mind watching her so that I can nip down?”

 

“Sure.” Jack looked between Rhiannon and the baby. “How long for?”

 

“I dunno. Until David gets back.”

 

“Knock yourself out, it’s not like i’m doing anything tonight anyway.”

 

“Thank you.” She kissed his head. “Glad to have you home, love.”

 

“Me too.”

 

Rhiannon shut the door and got out her mobile on the way to the car. 

 

“David! It's your mother. Get out of that fucking pub and get your arse home right now or God help me you are not too old to get your arse whipped.”

* * *

Mica sat at her workstation and typed away at the keyboard, switching between screens. Everyone else had gone home and were well on their way to their beds, but Mica Davies wasn’t the kind to leave before all her work was done. She was the youngest operative, the newest and had the most to prove. The rift spike in Penarth had deposited fifteen bits of debris, one device shattered over a three mile radius and it was a puzzle she was pushing herself to solve. 

 

“You can go you know?” Gwen said, appearing out of the office. “No more work to do tonight.”

 

“There's always work to do.” Mica typed away at her computer, scrolling through pages of information until she got what she needed. “I’m getting closer to cracking it, I just need to--”

 

“You need to do nothing.” Gwen pulled her her chair away from the workstation and spun her around. “Home.”

 

“I-”

 

“Now!” She pressed a button on her handheld device and shut down Mica's station remotely. “You've been here long enough and it’s nothing that can’t wait until tomorrow.”

 

“I won't be long,” Mica argued. “I’ll make some coffee, then finish this off and I can start on decoding the signals tomorrow fresh.”

 

“I don't think so. Come on!” She pulled her up by her hand, dragging her away from the computer. “That’s an order.”

 

“Gwen--”

 

“Home!” Gwen grabbed her coat from the back of the chair and dragged her away from her station. “You know the rules, unless there’s a level 2 emergency all operatives home by eleven o’clock.”

 

“I’m so close, though.”

 

“Don't make me go into mother mode on you.”

 

Finally, Mica smiled. “Bloody hell, I wouldn't wish that on anyone.”

 

“Watch it.” Gwen pulled her into the lift and shut the door. “I've got the car, I'll drive you home, it's chucking it down out there.”

 

“Thanks.”

 

They exited the lift inside the Torchwood carpark, situated underneath the newer part of the building and Gwen led her towards her car.

 

“We need to talk about this obsession you’ve got, Mica.”

 

“Obsession?”

 

“Just because there's a mystery it doesn't mean you have to solve it right at that moment.”

 

“But if it can be done, then I should do it.”

 

“Rome wasn’t built in a day.”

 

“I just want to be good,” she said. 

 

“You are.”

 

“I want to make Uncle Jack proud, make him see that he did the right thing.”

 

“Jack is already bloody proud of you,” Gwen told her, pressing a button on her dashboard to open the garage gates. “You should’ve seen him talk about you when he came to ask me to take you on, he was bursting with pride.”

 

“He didn’t seem it to me.”

 

“He worries about you and you can hardly blame him after what he’s seen, but he’s proud to the bone.”

 

“He thinks i’ll get bored of it,” Mica said. “He thinks that if I got in I would realise it’s not all I hoped it would be and I would beg to get out.”

 

“And you’re not?”

 

“No. It’s better than I thought it would be.”

 

Gwen smiled a little as she skidded around a corner. “You’re an adrenaline junkie.”

 

“Maybe.”

 

“I just want you to make your own life at Torchwood. You dont need to be mad for danger like Jack, or organised and precise like Ianto. I just want you to be Mica, because I don't think we’ve really found her yet. You have to let yourself find what you’re best at and fine-tune your skills.”

 

“I like lab work,” she said. “It’s interesting.”

 

“Lab work?” Gwen smiled. “Good.”

 

“I mean, don’t get me wrong, I love all the tech stuff and I think I’m good at that, but the lab work is what really gets me going.”

 

“I did notice.”

 

“You did?”

 

“Yeah. Your face lights up whenever you see Brian in a Labcoat dissecting something, but I just thought you fancied him.”

 

Mica smiled. “Well, I’m not blind.”

 

“No fraternising.” Gwen laughed. “He’s far too old for you.”

 

“He’s only twenty four!”

 

“Yes, and you’re a teenager, you need to keep focused.”

 

“I _am_ focused,” Mica said. “He’s just nice to focus on, too.”

 

“You’re terrible, you are!” She turned another corner, stopping at a red light. “Are you serious about the lab stuff?”

 

“Yeah.”

 

“If you promise to behave, I’ll talk to Brian and see if he’ll take you under his wing.”

 

“Really?”

 

“Yes, but keep it professional.”

 

“I can be professional and ogle his arse at the same time,” Mica joked. “I can multi-task.”

* * *

When Mica got into the house she found it eerily quiet; the telly wasn't blaring and she couldn't hear any noise at all. For a moment she thought that everyone was in bed, until she saw a lamp on in the corner of the living room. 

 

“Hello?” 

 

She walked into the living room and smiled. Jack was back and sitting on the sofa with her niece in his arms, sleeping. She crept up behind him and lowered her mouth to his ear.

 

“Jack?” She sang his name into his ear. “Anyone in?”

 

He opened one eye groggily. “Was I asleep?”

 

“Either that or dead.”

 

“You never know with me.”

 

“Left holding the baby I see?” She took the bundle away and put it into the makeshift cot in the corner of the room. “Very domesticated.”

 

“Another generation.” Jack stood up and walked over, standing beside her to look down into the cot. “You and David, you're all grown up now.”

 

“Oh boo-hoo.” She joked. “How was your trip?”

 

“Eventful.” He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her into a hug. “I worried the whole time about you.”

 

“I'm still here.” she smiled. “Alive and Kicking.”

 

“And Gwen?”

 

“She's keeping an eye on me. Well, most of the time,” Mica said, letting a smile spread across her face. “She’s going to let me train in the lab, let me specialise.”

 

“That’s great.”

 

“She wants me to find my forte.”

 

“It's a good idea.”

 

“Okay okay I'm back Mam.” David walked into the living room. “No need to get your knickers in a twist.

 

“She's gone out.” Jack said. “You're safe for now.”

 

“I was only having a few pints with the boys.” He walked over to the crib and picked the baby up. “Daddy's home now.”

 

“I brought you a present.” Jack said as he turned back to Mica. “More than one actually.”

 

She smiled. “Really?”

 

“Yeah.”

 

“Well, can I have it?”

“Not here. We need to take a walk.” He walked into the hallway and she followed. He took an old Thermos flask out of his coat pocket and held it up. “Let's go for a coffee.


	11. Chapter 11

Mica switched the lights on in the hub and watched as the large metal door shut them inside, then turned to Jack. 

“This is Torchwood,” she said, “it's not glamorous but it does its job.”

“Gwen had to rebuild this from the ground up.” He looked around. “I didn't really get a good look at this place the last time I was here, not in much detail anyway. She did a nice job.”

“She told me that you thought it was too Ikea.”

“I still stand by that statement.” Jack spun the leather chair around the jumped into it. “But it's a lot cosier than it was.”

“There's a lot to be said for a woman's touch.”

Mica walked over to a shelf in the corner and picked up two mugs and brought them back to her desk. Jack was staring at the pictures pinned to her workstation; his eyes became drawn to thee photographs side by side. One was of him and Mica when she was twelve, the other was of Mica aged three with Ianto; the other was one he never even knew had existed. He picked it up and ran his thumb over it.

“Gwen gave me that,” she said. "She found it with his things when she was clearing out his flat.”

“It must have been taken on one of our team building nights.” Jack looked at the picture. Ianto was a little tipsy and hung onto Jack's neck, pressing a kiss onto the corner of his lips. “He was just drunk enough to not care what others thought.”

“You look happy.”

“We really were." Jack smiled and put it down, then clasped his hands together. “Right! Work to do.”

“What work?”

“Loop the CCTV, inside and out. Make it look like we were never here.” He put the Thermos on the desk. “Then work can begin.”

* * *

Gwen walked in the front door and collapsed onto the couch; it was well past eleven, but thst wasn't unusual for her. She put her feet up on the sofa and smiled when a glass of wine appeared in front of her.

“Just in time for Lasagne.” Rhys lifted up her legs and sat underneath them then rested them on his lap. He pulled off her boots and started to knead her tired feet. “It'll be five minutes and we get to eat before midnight. Just."

“Thank you." She leaned over and kissed him. "So how was work?”

“I took on a new driver. You?”

“Saved Cardiff from extraterrestrial bunny rabbits.” She smiled. “Blue ones.”

Rhys laughed. “One day you'll come home and my day will be more interesting, I swear.”

“You never know.”

“I had an idea today," Rhys said. "It was brilliant."

“Oh yeah?”

“Does Torchwood have anything that can put a roof over Wales?”

“Don't you think that if we had that degree of technology then we would have used it?” She put her feet down and moved closer, then kissed his lips softly. “If we could do that then we could do anything.”

"Do we need to eat tonight?" Rhys asked. "Why don't we just go to bed instead?"

"You're a bad Man Rhys Williams." Gwen put down her wine and moved herself onto his lap. "Are you suggesting we skip food?"

"Lasagne works well as breakfast," he said. "Or a midnight snack." 

"Well, I'm not that hungry anyway." Gwen kissed him softly. "Are the kids asleep?"

"The kids aren't even here," he told her. "My Mam offered to babysit for the night." 

"She does have her uses after all."

* * *

“Okay.” Mica finished off her task with the tap of a button and a smile. “I'm done and what's even better is that I made it completely untraceable.”

“Brilliant.” Jack took the lid off the Thermos and took in the scent of the rich coffee; he closed his eyes and sighed. “This is the best coffee you will ever taste.” He poured it out, half filling two Torchwood mugs

“I thought you didn't drink coffee anymore?”

"Oh, I drink this coffee.” He took a sip and leaned back in the chair, savouring the taste. “This is a very special blend.”

“Wow.” She took a drink. “It is amazing.”

“I know.” Jack took another moment to take in the aroma. "This coffee brings back wonderful memories. I only drink it once every ten years or so when I make a special trip, but I used to drink it every single day.

“Is this my present?” she asked. “Coffee?”

“One of them, although it was more for me.” Jack put his cup down and turned her computer screen so that he could see it. “But it's just the beginning because we are going to embark on a little adventure."

"Adventure?"

"Yes." He pulled her keyboard over and started typing away, accessing files that nobody but him and a few others ever knew existed. Jack smiled as he found what he was looking for, tapping into hidden databases and systems camouflaged within old archive files. 

“What are you doing?”

“Praying that someone held up their side of a deal.” He entered several pass codes as the system worked through a program. “I took her word that she would.”

“Took who's word?”

“Ever heard of Lois Habiba?” He asked. "She was brilliant, not as brilliant as me, but getting there."

“No.” She shook her head. “Why?”

“Lois was Bridget Spears' PA back in the day. She helped Torchwood out when the 456 came to town. I paid her a visit and asked her to do something for me," Jack explained.. "Maybe I was a little heavy handed, but I paid her handsomely to do it and trusted that she would.”

“To do what?”

“Exactly what she was told.” Jack smiled. "And she was a woman of her word because she did _not_ let me down."

“Which was what?”

“Follow me.”

Jack took off his coat and his boots and put them on a chair, then grabbed Mica's hand and dragged her towards the internal lift, taking it down as far as it would go into the archives. 

"Where are we going?" She asked. "Why are we down here?"

"Good things come to those who wait."

He dragged her down a corridor until they got to a large metal door and smiled, flipping open his wrist strap to press a few buttons. After a moment or so the door slipped open to reveal a dark passageway.

"New Torchwood finishes here," he explained. "Old Torchwood finished here too, but Victorian Torchwood was _far_ more extravagant." 

Jack led Mica down the tunnel and slipped down a ladder until they found an even deeper layer, turning into an even darker passageway. 

"It's bloody dark down here!" Mica complained, handing Jack a torch. 

"I love how prepared you are."

"Blame the Girl Scouts." 

Jack smiled and turned on the torch to illuminate the dark narrow passageway. 

"Come one, Jack." Mica prompted. "Where are we?"

"When Torchwood was destroyed it never got this far.” He led her down another passageway that got smaller and smaller until it reached to a dead end. "It's virtually indestructible."

“It stinks.”

“That's nothing.” He looked down at her boots, lighting them up with the light. “You should probably take those off."

"My boots?" She asked. "I'm not going anywhere in my bare feet."

"If this place is anything like it was thirteen years ago it's going to leave you knee-deep in Weevil shit and you never quite get that stench out. I would much rather walk through it in bare feet than ruin my best shoes." 

"I think I'll keep them on, thanks."

"Well, that's your call." Jack looked down at them. "They were such nice boots, too."

"Sale!" She said happily. "Sixty percent off."

"Nice."

Jack opened a hatch in the floor and stepped down onto the rungs of a ladder, dropping the last few feet. He landed with a splash, the thick river of Weevil excrement make a gulping noise as it curdled a wave down the corridor around his knees.

"You coming?" Jack asked, shining the light up to illuminate her disgusted face. "It'll be fun!"

"You're kidding me?" Mica put her hand over her mouth and gagged a little as her stomach churned and the colour drained from her face. "It stinks!"

“Brings back such good memories.” He smiled. “So are you ready for your first adventure with Uncle Jack?”

“An adventure that includes Weevil shit?” She tried not to be sick. “Brilliant.”

* * *

Jack jumped from the last rung of the ladder and fell the last five feet, landing in Weevil shit with a hearty splash. Mica looked down at him and looked disgusted.

"No. Not happening Harkness, not in a million years!" Mica shook her head, looking down at Jack as he stood waist deep. " That's going to come up to my bloody neck!" 

“Come on, live a little!" Jack smiled, laughing a little at her discomfort. "I'll catch you and if it's too deep I'll carry you on my back."

“There better be a good reason for this.” 

"Trust me!" 

"I must be mad!" She let herself drop and hung onto Jack's neck as he caught her. “It's fowl!”

“Brilliant isn't it?”

“No!" She put her feet on the ground and steadied herself on Jack; the thick Weevil excrement only just fell short of her chest. “Rank!”

“It isn't far.” Jack took her hand, holding it high above the sea of excrement and helped her wade through the sewer until they reached another ladder. “Up here one then more corridor and we're there.”

They climbed the ladder and walked through the tunnel. It was free from Weevil faeces but still not very pleasant and at the end of it, where the raw eggy sewage drained away, there was a large metal door. It was built like a safe with a large metal wheel that looked rusted shut.

“What is that?”

“This is a hidden vault.” He dusted off an old rusted box and opened it then keyed in a code. “Very few people know of its existence, and those who do don't really like making the trip very often.” 

"I wonder why."

Jack started to turn the wheel; it refused to budge at first but after a while, and a lot of straining, the rusty mechanism finally turned. 

"Only four people have known about this place," he said. “Me, Harriet Derbyshire, Ianto Jones, Lois Habiba and now you.”

“Gwen?”

“No. Not Gwen.” The wheel stopped turning and Jack pulled the door open. “Nobody has been down here for thirteen years.”

They walked into a room and closed the door behind them; it was a lot cleaner than the route they had taken, with white stone walls and a grey slate floor. In front of them was a wall full of drawers.

"Close your eyes," he instructed.

Mica did as she was told, screaming a little as a icy cold power stream hit her from above; Jack just laughed. 

"That's freezing!" She shivered.

"But it makes you clean." 

"Am I supposed to think it's refreshing?"Mica wrung out the remaining water from her hair and wiped her face with her hand. 

"Something like that." Jack ran his fingers through his hair, then shook his head like a dog. "So, what do you think?"

“It looks like a morgue.”

"That's because it _is_ a morgue." Jack sighed and walked over to the drawers. He tapped drawer number fourteen. “And this is your present.”

“What did you do?” She walked over to join him. “What's in here?”

“Not what. Who.”

Jack opened the locker and pulled out the drawer then walked around to the side and keyed some numbers into a display; the glass lid slid back into the wall. He looked over at Mica as she stood rooted to the spot, then walked back to grab her hand. 

"Come on."

Mica swallowed hard as she gripped Jack's hand and walked towards it slowly, her mouth falling open at the sight in front of her.

“How did you do this?” She whispered, looking down at the perfectly preserved body of her Uncle. “ _Why_ did you do this?”

“Cryogenics.” He put his arm around her. “When you told me what you were going to do it made me think. Cryogenics keep the body in the same state it was at the point of freezing.”

“No need to rebuild the flesh.” She said, suddenly understanding. "No more zombified Uncle?"

"Exactly." 

"Look at him." She reached out and touched Ianto's cheek, then pulled back quickly. “I had almost forgotten what he looked like. I mean, I have pictures but--”

“It's different.”

“Yeah.” She smiled for the first time. “When you said you would bring me a present I really didn't expect Uncle Ianto on ice.”

“I like to surprise people." Jack laughed a little. 

"This is impossible."

"Anything is possible."

"Apparently so." She touched Ianto's hand; it was hard like stone and colder than anything she had ever touched. “Do we need to, you know, defrost him?”

“Kinda. There's a heating device that thaws out the body slowly over forty-eight hours, I just need to activate it.”

Mica nodded. “Do it.”

“We need to fix the device first.”

"What do you take me for." She smiled. “Already done. It didn't take me long.”

“Did you test it?”

“I did a few trials on rats, then on some bodies in the morgue and checked back against the toxicology reports to see if it was accurate.” she said. "It's as good as I can make it.”

“Then we're ready?”

Mica nodded. “We're ready.”

Jack kissed the cold lips of his lover and caressed his cheek before pressing a few buttons on his wrist strap; the glass lid covered Ianto again and the lock clicked into place. A red light illuminated the cryogenic chamber and the glass became warm.

"Is that it?" 

" If you're sure about this?" Jack asked, turning to put his hand on her shoulder. 

"I'm one hundred percent sure. We're doing this and it's going to work."

"Okay."

"We'll get him back, we'll get _you_ back, I might even get part of Mam back, too." 

 

"Okay." Jack looked at Ianto before he pushed the drawer back into the wall, securing the lock. “Welcome home." 

"Shit!" Mica cursed as an image flashed up on her PDA and a low level alarm sounded. "Why do things go wrong?"

"What's that?"

"We've got company." She accessed the cctv systems and watched a tall slim figure walking through the hub, a bag on his shoulder. "It's Brian."

"Who is he?"

"He works in the labs," she explained. "He left at eight o'clock."

"He's cute."

"Like I haven't noticed." Mica smiled a little, trying to hide it. "He's actually a decent human being, too." 

"Oh, you two got a thing going?" Jack asked. 

"No. Office shenanigans are strictly against Torchwood policy."

'Yeah, I tried to enforce that once but it didn't really work out,"Jack said, smiling to himself. "Then again, I'm probably not the best one to lead by example." 

"Anyway, getting back to the point," Mica said. "He's harmless. But I don't know what he's doing here at this time of night."

"I'll sneak out the sewer exit, you go up and find out what he's doing here and if he's going to hinder our plans. I'll see you back at home later."

"Look at me!" She said. "I can't let him see me looking like this, I'm a mess!"

"I think the smell is more offensive." 

"Thanks!"

"Spin him a story, flash your eyelashes," Jack advised. "He's a guy, we fall for that stuff. Just find out if we need to worry about him."


	12. Chapter 12

Mica rinsed off her hair and stepped out of the shower cubicle in the staff quarters of the hub. It felt good to get clean after the horrible feeling of Weevil shit on her skin. Next time she went down there she would be bringing a change of clothes and definitely taking off her boots; Jack had been right, they were completely ruined. 

She picked up the clothes Brian had kindly lent her from his gym bag and slipped them on, then dried her hair with a towel. Mica looked at herself in the mirror and sighed wearily; the clothes were far too big for her and even with the legs rolled up, the larger clothes drowned her slim frame. 

“I made you some lemon tea!” Brian’s voice filtered through the hub as Mica made an appearance down the stairway. “Did you manage to get clean?”

“As clean as I could manage,” she said. “Thanks for the clothes, I didn’t fancy going home smelling that way.”

“Did you throw them out?” he asked. “Tell me you threw them out?”

“Unfortunately, I had to,” She admitted, taking the cup from him. “What are you doing here at this time of night anyway?”

“You still haven't explained what _you_ are doing here yet.” Brian sat down on one of the leather office chairs, his white coat unfastened over his black t-shirt. “You were covered in shit and I was far too bothered about getting rid of the stench that I totally overlooked it.”

“Gwen forced me to go home,” Mica said. “I wasn’t finished what I was doing and I wanted to finish it, so I snuck back.”

“And the shit?”

“One of the generators went out so I went to fix it, but got lost and ended up in the holding room with a big pile of Weevil shit. It was dark and i tripped.”

“Sounds disgusting..”

“It was. Now, how about you?”

“I couldn’t sleep,” he said. “I kept thinking, there’s a monster in the lab with a venom gland that I haven’t dissected yet and I couldn’t keep away.”

“Geek!”

"And proud of it."

"Okay,” she reconsidered. “Workaholic!"

“You needn't speak.” he laughed. 

“Fair enough, you’ve got me there”

“So, Gwen called me on her way home and said that you were interested in lab work?”

“Yeah." Mica sat down in the chair and curled herself up on it. "The lab work, the medical work is really interesting."

"You thinking about training to be a Torchwood doctor?" He asked. "I could do with an apprentice and Torchwood pay for everything.”

"Maybe, but people like me don't become Doctors, do they?"

"I did."

"You're hardly like me,” she said. “I can tell by your accent that you didn't grow up somewhere like I did."

“I'm from Stevenage. Ever been there?"

"No, but it _sounds_ posh."

"It's _very_ boring." 

"Better boring than the shithole I come from.”

“I told Gwen that I would take you under my wing starting tomorrow.” Brian stood up, picking a spare white coat from a hook and threw it to her. “But you may as well start now seen as you're so keen and I could do with a helping hand.”

“Really?” Mica’s face lit up. 

“Help me dissect this venomous gland and I wont tell Gwen that you were here.”

“Youve got a deal.”

“Come on then.” Brian led the way, jogging down the steps to the autopsy room and stood beside a creature; he held up a scalpel to her as she followed. “I’ll throw you in at the deep end. It’s the best way to learn.”

“What?” Mica held the waistband of her trousers and walked over to take it. “You want me to use this, on _that_

“I need an incision around six millimetres deep and nine long until the venom comes out and I’ll collect it so that we can analyse it," he explained. "Do you think you can do that?"

“I’ve never done it before.”

“Then you never will unless you try.”

“You trust me to do this?” she asked. “Really?”

“It’s dead, it’s not like you can do any damage and I need to know what I’m dealing with.”

“Okay.” Mica took a deep breath, keeping hold of the waistband to keep it from slipping. “Just show me where?”

“But come here first.” Brian pulled up the hem of the shirt a little and gathered some of the material on the waistband, then secured it with a clamp. “lesson one; You can’t hold up your trousers and operate at the same time.”

“And you would know would you?” She asked with a smile. “Do you often operate on monsters without your keks on, because I'd pay to see that."

“Never really, I mean I’ve never had cause to… do that,” he stuttered a little. “

"Calm down.” Mica laughed a little, touching his arm. “I was joking, no need to get all English on me.”

“I know that. I knew that.”

“Youre very serious, aren't you?" she asked. “A very serious type?”

“I’m _not_ serious.”

“You _look_ serious.” 

“I'm _not_ ,” he denied. “I’m just so used to working on my own, I don’t usually have to talk much.”

“So you don't _like_ to talk?”

“Not when you’re holding a scalpel.”

“Right.” She took a deep breath and looked at the large mass of turquoise flesh lying in front of her. “I should just do this then.”

“When you’re done we can talk some more, if you like. You’re good to talk to.” Brian walked over to her, standing just behind her. “Now, let's carve.”

“You just made a joke.” 

"I'm allowed." He lowered his lips to her ear, taking her hand and pressing it against the creature's neck. “I'm not holding a scalpel."

* * *

Jack walked around the back of the house and leant on the back fence, picking the glass from a bottle out the bottom of his foot. It was lucky he healed so quickly, otherwise that might have hurt tomorrow. He jumped up to grab the top of the fence, then pulled himself over into the back garden. Taking off his clothes, Jack put them straight into the bin and walked over to the hosepipe, hosing the Weevil shit off with a spray of cold water.

“What the hell are you doing?” Rhiannon laughed as she stood in the doorway in her dressing gown, half a cigarette between her fingers. “Why are you naked in my garden?”

"You're supposed to be off those," Jack reminded her, covering himself up with his hands. “They kill you.”

“And you’re supposed to be wearing clothes, but I’m not nagging you about that, am I?.”

"Throw me a towel?" Jack asked.

“You’re so weird.” Rhiannon ducked into the house and grabbed a tea towel, throwing it across the garden to him. "Here."

"That's not exactly what I was thinking of."

“Why are you hosing down in my back garden?” she asked, sitting down on the step. 

“I didnt want to wake anybody and I really needed a shower."

“Do I _want_ to know what you've been doing?" 

“Probably not.” 

Rhiannon laughed, then went back inside and got Jack some underwear from the ironing pile. "Throw these on, that's more of you than I care to see."

"Thank you."

"Where's Mica?" she asked. "David said she went out with you." 

"She did, but she went off with a friend, Brian I think she said."

"Brian who?"

"I don't know, cute Brian." Jack smiled a little. "He’s really, _really_ cute.”

“Really?”

“He's a doctor, I think."

"Well that sounds better than the shit she usually brings home." Rhiannon stubbed out her cigarette and opened the door. “Come on, I’ll warm you up with a cup of tea.”

* * *

"Thanks for bringing me home." Mica climbed off Brian’s motorbike and took off the helmet, handing it back to him and looked at the house from the bottom of the driveway. “And the clothes.”

"Well," Brian perched on the edge of his bike, holding his helmet on his lap. "It's two thirty, I thought it would be a little cruel to make you walk." 

"My Dad would kill me if he saw me on that,” Mica said, pointing to the bike he perched on. “He doesn’t like boys on bikes.”

"I'm a good driver. Very responsible," he promised. 

"You don't know my Dad." she laughed a little. “If you did, you would be gone by now.”

"Overprotective?" 

"You could say that. My dad, my brother, my mam, my uncle Jack- they're all so overbearing."

“At least they care. You're young, they probably think you're vulnerable and innocent instead of being a beautiful Weevil-fighting, monster-dissecting, gun-wielding maniac." 

"Was that your attempt at flirting with me?"

"Was it bad?" Brian cringed a little. "I'm terrible at flirting, aren't i?"

"It wasn't good," Mica laughed. "Try not to call a girl a maniac when you're trying to flatter them

"Thanks for the pointers. I’ll try better next time."

"So, How did I do?" she asked. 

“Oh, your flirting is excellent.”

“My dissecting.” she hit his arm lightly. "How are my scalpel skills?"

“Good for a rookie. You need practice but I can help you with that.” 

“When will those samples be done?” 

“Tomorrow. We can do them together if you like?” 

“Yeah, that would be great.”

"Then I want to go and track down a weevil for the yearly Check.," he explained. "We take a Weevil and sedate it, then give it a full check over just to see if they've evolved in any way. You can come with me if you like, I hear Weevil hunting is your thing."

"I have a soft spot for it,"

"What else do you have a spot for?" Brian asked, slipping his fingers over Mica's hand a little.

"You really need to work on that flirting."

"And you should probably go and gt some beauty sleep," he said gesturing to the house with a nod of his head. "Not that you need it."

"I'll see you tomorrow." Mica gave him a tight smile and turned to walk back towards the house. She got a few feet away from the front door when she felt Brain's arm resting on her shoulder. 

"Mica?" 

"Did you forget something?" Mica asked turning to face him.

"I was just thinking, hunting is so much more effective at night than daytime, so maybe we could do it tomorrow after work?"

"After work?" She arched an eyebrow. 

" Yeah, off the clock. Then we can take it back to lab, sedate it then maybe go for a drink?" He asked. "If you want."

"That sounds suspiciously like a date to me."

"Well, maybe you should come and see if your suspicions have any merit?" 

"Well, I would love to." Mica crosses her arms over her chest, a playful smile dancing on her lips. "But Fraternising is strictly against Torchwood policy." 

"You don't look like a girl who always sticks by the rules, if you were then you wouldn't be in Torchwood, would you?"

"That is very true." She smiled. "It sounds fun." 

"Good. Then I'll go." 

"Go on." Mica felt Brain's fingers tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. " Off you pop posh boy, unless you have something else you want to do?"

"Well, that would be against Torchwood policy." He cupped her cheek, tilting her face up to look at him. "wouldn't it?

"Do you often break Torchwood policy with your apprentices Dr. Fraser?"

"Only the beautiful maniacs." 

"Well that's alright then."

Mica slipped her arms around his neck, bringing them together for a kiss, relaxing into his arms when he pulled her close, his arms circling her waist.

"Oi bike boy?" Johnny opened the door and stood there. 

"Shit." Mica groaned, slipping her arms away from his neck. "Dad!"

"What are you doing with my girl?" He stepped out into the driveway, pushing Brian back from Mica a little. 

"I--i." Brian struggled to find his words.

"You got a stutter?"

"Dad!" Mica scalded, pulling her father back a little by his shoulder. 

"She's eighteen years old! How old are you, thirty?

"She's almost nineteen,"he argued weakly. " And I actually look quite mature for my age."

"Cheeky git!" 

Johnny pulled back his arm and struck Brian's face, sending him back against the side of the house, a small trail of blood starting to trickle out of his nose. He grabbed the younger man's jacket and pressed him into the wall.

"Don't pretend like you're all innocent. It's the middle of the night, she's lost her clothes--

" It _was_ innocent!" Brain managed. 

"Yeah, right!"

"We work together, I was bringing her home or would you prefer i let her walk the streets?"

"You don't look like you work at a bloody knicker factory to me!"

"Have you lost your fucking mind?!" Mica pulled her farther away from the taller man, then went to inspect his face. "You punched him?"

"Yeah, I should've fine more than that."

"I'm so sorry Brian, I--"

"it's fine." He stopped her before she could finish. "I'll see you tomorrow."

Mica watched him go, then turned to face Johnny; she glared at him for a moment before slapping the side if his face so hard it instantly burned red. 

"You're a fucking twat sometimes, you know that?"

"You just hit me." Johnny said, touching his cheek in disbelief. "You actually bloody hit me."

"I cannot believe you just did that!" She put her hands on his chest and pushed him back roughly, "why the hell did you do that?!"

"He was--"

"He was bringing me home so that I didn't have to walk!" She shoves him away. "He was being nice to me!"

"He was trying to get into your knickers, love!" Johnny argued. 

"What's going on?!" Rhiannon appeared in the doorway. "I can hear you from upstairs!"

"Dad punched Brian!" Mica told her. "In his face!"

"Johnny!" Rhiannon turned to Mica. "Is he the doctor?"

"Jack can't keep his mouth shut, can he?"

"He's a doctor! You can't punch a bloody doctor!"

"He said he worked with her, he lied!"

"He's a man! You all lie but if you got punched every time you would all have permanent black bloody eyes."

"I hate you sometimes, I really do." Mica said, shoving him one last time before storming into the house. 

"What did you go and do that for?" Rhiannon asked, now calm.

"I don't trust him."

"You never trust any of them.When she was eleven you wouldn't let Danny Mathews in to trick or treat because he smiled at her. You've always been like this, but it needs to stop."

"She's my little girl, Rhi," he argued.

"She's all growed up now."

"Not to me she's not. You should've seen him, kissing her like that, kissing my little baby girl with his hands on her arse and everything." Johnny sat down on the front step and Rhiannon joined him, taking his hand.

"When I was Micas age, we were doing a lot more than having a snog, love."

"Exactly, and then David happened."

" You can't go around lynching every boy that comes to the door."

"He was a posh git!"

"I don't care. You'll apologise tomorrow and if she ever brings him round again, you'll apologise to him too," she ordered. 

"Rhiannon--"

"Or would you prefer to sleep in the shed tonight?"

"I'll apologise in the morning."


	13. Chapter 13

Mica jogged into the hub, turning her key in the lock to open the large metal door. It was early, earlier than she had ever gone in before and she hadn't slept much, but the hub was a far more attractive option than breakfast with her family. She sat down at her desk and switched on her computer, then typed some commands into her keyboard.

“You’re early.” Brian called from the autopsy room. 

“I couldn't sleep,” she admitted, walking over towards his voice. “I didn't think you would be here.”

“I didn't _go_ home.”

Mica stood behind him, pulling herself up to sit on the autopsy table. “I’m sorry about my Dad.”

“It's fine.”

“He’s just that way sometimes.”

“I just said it’s fine.” He busied himself with putting some blood onto a slide, then slipped it it underneath the microscope. “Forget about it.”

“Forget everything, or just that part?” 

Brian said nothing; instead he wrote some notes down on a chart on the desk before returning to his work. 

“So I take it Weevil hunting is off tonight?” 

“Why would it be?” He spun around in his stool. “I didn’t say that.”

“Oh god!” Mica leapt down from the table and rushed over to him, taking his head in her hands to inspect the fresh bruising on his face; his right eye was closed a little and he winced a little as she touched it. “Your face!”

“It’s fine, really.” He took off his gloves and put his arm around her waist to pull himself closer to her. “It’s not the first time I’ve been punched for kissing someone I shouldn’t be.”

“So you didn’t mean to?” she asked, moving away from his touch a little. “It was a mistake?

“Not exactly a mistake, but maybe a little misjudged on my part.”

“I see.” Mica took a few good steps back to distance herself, then took a deep breath and forced a professional smile. “Back to work then Dr. Fraiser.” 

“Oh God.” He groaned, pulling her back by her hand. “Don’t say that. God, don’t use that tone.”

“What tone?”

“The tone my mother uses when I don’t call for a week and a half. That disappointed, horrible guilt-inducing tone that makes me feel like I’m the worst person on the planet.” He slipped his hands back around her waist and pulled her to him, opening his legs a little to keep her close. 

“I’m sorry.” 

“I fight aliens, Mica. I chase Weevils, I even captured nine escaped Hoix by myself once.”

“Nine?” she smiled. “And modest about it I bet.”

“I’ve even encountered the odd dalek, a flesh disintegrating virus and the ghost of Jack the ripper, but your dad is terrifying.” 

Mica laughed, slipping her hands over his shoulders a little as he looked up at her. “He’s not _that_ bad.”. 

“I mean, he’s up there with slitheens and shape shifters.” 

“He’s harmless.” 

“Funny, my face doesn’t think so.”

“I’m sorry he messed up your face,” she said with a gentle smile. “It was such a lovely face before it was all multicoloured.” 

“Is he likely to track me down and hurt me if I take you out to dinner tonight?”

“He’d do you no more damage than a Weevil.”

“That’s not encouraging.” 

“He’s fine,” she promised. “My mam sorted him out.”

“And is she scary too?”

“Terrifying. But she’s on your side, so you don’t need to worry."

“Okay.” He stood up. “Then we can go hunting and for dinner?”

“I would like that.”

“Good.” Brian picked up a white coat and walked around her to slip it on for her, then leaned down to speak into her ear. “Well, we should get these samples analysed so that you can start to learn the ropes.”

“Let’s get crackin’ then.”

“I took the samples early this morning, we just have to run through the standard Torchwood protocol testing list.” Brian walked over to the bench and picked up a clipboard, then handed it to her. “I took more samples than we need just in case you make a mistake.”

“Will we be doing a toxicology scan on the creatures victim?” she asked. 

“Yeah, why?”

“I just like toxicology.” 

“And you called me a geek?” Brian laughed. “You can start on that if you like before you analyse the samples, seen as you’re so keen to do the boring bit. Do you know what you’re doing?” 

“I’ve done them before.”

“Well, just give me a call if you need any help. I’m going to go and do a coffee run.”

Mica watched him grab his jacket and leave before typing a code into the keypad on the wall. she listened to the hydraulics as they sent the body of the victim up from the morgue and pulled the drawer out. Taking a small device out of her pocket, Mica scanned the cadaver and waited a minute before it let off a high pitched beeping noise. She typed a few commands into the computer system and waited until the results popped up, then smiled. 

“Job done.”

Mica looked down at the device in her hands. She had worked hard to make it right, to make it accurate for her own selfish intentions, but it was definitely good for Torchwood too. She slipped it back into her pocket and walked back to the Cadaver, drawing a vial of blood before pushing it back into the wall.

* * *

Jack took a walk along the waterfront and leaned on the railing. It had changed a lot since the last time he visited; the old railings had gone, replaced with new ones and the walkway was new too, but the place still felt as lonely as it had the last time he had stood there. He tried not to go to the bay too often, the past still hurt and the good memories had almost all been erased and replaced with bad ones. 

“Afternoon!” Gwen appeared beside him, leaning on the railing to look at the water. “Nice place for a stroll, don’t you think?”

“You called?” Jack held up his arm, gesturing to his wrist strap and a small smile found his lips. “Y’know Mica would’ve given you my number if you had only asked.”

“This way was more fun. Why pick up a phone when you can send a hologram?” She took hold of his wrist and looked at the old strap; it still held up well. “You know, after all this time Rhys is still going on about the fifty quid you owe him for this.”

“How is he?”

“His arse is still spectacular.

“I bet.” Jack laughed. “How and why did you track me, exactly?” 

“You changed your frequency, but my scanner tracked it when you came to visit last time. So I thought you might want to go and catch up.”

“No thanks.”

“Come on.” She yanked him towards the hub by his coat. “Don’t you want to see what we can do now?”

“Not really.”

“You owe me one trip,” Gwen told him. “Just hear me out?”

“Why?”

“Because we were friends once.”

Jack smiled fondly. “Too long ago. Too long has passed and too much has happened.”

“I don’t agree.” She slapped a device against his wrist and it bonded him to her. “The team are out on assignments and lunch, so we have a little time for a private chat.”

“What are you doing?!” Jack pulled his wrist towards him and looked at the Green glow that held their wrists together. 

“You cant hide forever, Jack. At some point we need to talk”

“We already did. you shot me, if I recall. Twice.”

“And now we need to talk about Torchwood.”

“I dont want to talk about Torchwood, it doesn’t exist to me anymore.”

“I want to show you that were not all bad. You made Torchwood what it was, you changed it and made it into something to be proud of.”

“And I hate myself for it.”

“Come with me.” Gwen dragged him towards a door in the side of the walkway, she pressed a button on her PDA and it opened. She guided Jack inside and the door closed behind them, the floor giving way. “I’ll give you a guided tour.”

“I don’t _want_ one.”

“You’re getting one.”

“You’re so pushy.” Jack looked at the walls as they slipped underground in the lift. “Were you always _this_ pushy?”

“I think so.”

The lift sent them down to the main area of the hub and when they stepped out Jack looked around. He had been there twice in close succession, but he still hadn’t managed to see everything. It was bigger than it was, with a cleaner look that looked more like an office complex than a Torchwood facility.

“I still say it looks like you went overboard on the Ikea.”

“I was never really a fan of the underground look.”

“I kinda liked it.” Jack walked around, casting an eye around the large space. “You have more computers.”

 

“Yeah, well we’re bigger than what we were.” Gwen released the handcuffs.. “We have more departments.”

“Departments?” Jack raised an eyebrow.

“We have a Weevil control department, immagine that?”

“Weevil control?”

“Yeah. although, I do need a manager if you’re interested.”

“Manager?” Jack laughed. “You’ve departmentalised Torchwood?”

“It needed to be done. We even have a pension scheme and privatised healthcare.” she said. “We do childcare vouchers, too.”

“Cosy.”

“People don’t die like they used to. I made sure of that and now I like to make sure their families are looked after too.”

“You blame me,” Jack said simply. “Toshiko, Owen, Ianto. You blame me.”

“I don’t.”

“You’re saying I was responsible, but you fixed everything, right?” he asked. “You made Torchwood safe, you protect your employees and their families like I never did?”

“You always protected us, Jack. But alien threat now is bigger than it _ever_ was before. When you couple that with corruption, global terrorism, biological warfare and a rift that is more unstable now than it has ever been, you _need_ to change, you _need_ to grow. If you want to attract the right people, you have to offer them extra security.”

“Youre just another government department.”

“What the hell happened to you?” Gwen asked, clearly offended. “I thought you would be proud.”

“Proud?” Jack scoffed a laugh. “Why the hell would I be proud of _this_?”

“This is your legacy, it’s Ianto’s legacy.”

“Don’t bring him into this.” Jack walked around, running his fingers over the perspex desks and leather chairs. “It looks pretty, it looks functional and he would’ve _really_ admired your decor, but this is _not_ his legacy.”

“It’s effective, it’s controlled, it’s organised, it’s--”

“Torchwood one,” Jack said.

“No.”

“You’ve replicated Torchwood London. You remember how that went, don’t you?”

“It’s different.”

“It’s not.”

“I’m getting that you’re not keen on the office, so lets go and do something a little more down your alley.” She dragged him towards the wall and entered a code, then stepped through into a large gun range. “This is quite new. Top of the range training facility.”

Jack smiled for the first time. “Ok, so I gotta admit it. I like this.”

“I thought you might.” Gwen picked up a gun and some ear protection and gave them to him. “Fancy a go?”

Jack put on the ear protection and waited for Gwen to do the same before he took out his own revolver and shot four targets, hitting them between the eyes without even trying. 

“You didn’t lose your touch.”

Jack heard Gwen’s voice filter through a speaker in the large plastic earmuffs. 

“You built comms into your gun range?” Jack asked. “Don’t you like to do anything in silence?”

“I like to chat.”

“Youre not sucking me back in.” Jack shook his head, hitting another target. “No way.”

“Run it with me,” she said. “You and me at the helm together.”

“I’m not interested.”

“You’re not interested in Torchwood?”

“Not in the slightest.” Jack put his gun back in the holster and removed the muffs, handing them back to her. “Can I go?”

“So, you’re not interested at all?”

“No.”

“Then what were you doing here last night?” she asked. “I picked up your signal. You snuck in, you looped the CCTV. Why?

“I wanted to poke around, so I broke in.” Jack shrugged. “I’ve always been the curious type.”

“Just you?”

“Just me.”

“Why?”

“I was interested to see what you did with the place.”

“You could’ve just asked.”

“I wanted to see for myself.”

Gwen walked over to him and crossed her arms across her chest. “I used to trust you implicitly. I would follow you anywhere and do anything you asked me to do.”

“I know.”

“I don’t trust your motives right now.” She looked him in the eye. “You’re up to something.”

“You wanted me on board a minute ago,” Jack said. “Make up your mind.”

“I’m sick of doing this on my own.” Gwen sighed. “I don’t trust you, but I never fully trusted you not to have something up your sleeve that you shouldn’t have. Come back and you can have free reign. You can recruit your own team and work alongside us.”

“Ooh, my own department?” 

“Think about it.”

“You have staff, promote a manager.” Jack strode towards the door and pressed his wrist strap against it until it slid open. “I got an upgrade. Nifty huh?”

“Jack--”

“I’m not interested.” Jack walked through the hub back the way they came, then turned to face her. “Stop pushing me.”

“I know you’ve been away and you’ve traveled and come back and have a different life, but I don’t want you to hate me.”

“You think that?” Jack asked. “You think I _hate_ you?”

“Don’t you?”

“No.”

“Well you could’ve fooled me.”

“I can’t do this without him.” Jack sighed. “And even if he was here, I could never be a part of this. You have too much power and power corrupts eventually in one way or another, I should know.”

“So you don’t want this, but it’s fine for Mica?”

“She was going to do it if I helped her or not. Maybe she’ll come to her senses, but she has to learn to make her own mistakes.”

Gwen grabbed his hand. “I’m sorry this isn’t what you wanted Jack, but you have to believe that we do good here.”

“I used to think the same thing.” Jack sighed. “You’re a good person, I believe that, but I can’t get involved in this.”

“I’m sorry Jack.”

“Is Mica around?”

“Lunch,” she said simply. “You should wait for her and shoot some more.”

“Just because I’m staying--”

“I know.” Gwen smiled. “You’re still not interested.”

* * *

After Jack had spent a while shooting cardboard Weevils in the gun range he went for a walk, finding Mica hiding away in one of the labs. 

“Hey stranger.” He looked at her white coat and goggles and laughed little. “Loving the geek chic.”

“Jack?” Mica turned around. “What are you doing here?”

“Gwen kidnapped me, then tried to re-recruit me.” He leaned back on the wall beside her. “Look at you, with your white coat and goggles.”

“I’m working on something,” she said. “It’s really interesting.”

“On what?”

“Venom.” sh explained. “Brian extracted it yesterday and I have to look for certain enzymes, then we need to find a way to neutralise it.”

“Why?”

“So we have an antidote,” she explained, turning back to her work. “It’s for the TGPVP program?”

“TGPVP?” Jack asked. “Thats a mouthful.”

“Torchwood Global Poison and Virus Protection program. Gwen’s mission is to have an antidote for every poison and virus in existence. We have 13,852 at last count.”

“Wow.”

“Yeah. She has a thing about it.” 

“So.” Jack walked over to her and leaned over her shoulder.”I heard that you and Dr. Cutiepie had a little drama last night.”

Mica smiled as she worked. “And I wonder who told you.”

“I thought you two were professional,” he teased. “What happened to no copulating in Torchwood?”

“We did not copulate!” She turned around and pointed a test tube at him. “We had a cheeky snog and dad overreacted and tried to break his nose.”

“Touchy!”

“Don’t believe everything my mother tells you.”

“Look, just don’t get too close to him,” Jack warned. “People in relationships--”

“It was a snog!”

“They divulge things in moments of intimacy that they don't mean to,” Jack continued. “Just be careful.”

“What do you think i’m going to do?” Mica asked, lowering her voice to a whisper. “Tell him that my uncle is currently defrosting downstairs?”

“Of course not!”

“I’m not going to tell him anything.”

“I know, I just worry about you and this place,” he said. “I don’t want you to put yourself in danger.”

“I won’t.” Mica gave his hand a gentle squeeze. “It’s under control.”

“Did you check on him today?”

“I set up a monitoring system, buried it into the archive database and camouflaged for security. It allows me to check his temperature and keep an eye on him. It should let me know when he’s ready.”

“Good.”

“Relax a little.”

“Okay, how about we go to the movies tonight or something to unwind before we get too busy?” Jack asked. “My treat?”

“I cant. I’m going hunting with Brian tonight,” she said. “Then for dinner.”

“Romance, Torchwood style.”

“Something like that, although I don’t think you can count Weevils as romance.”

“Ianto used to take me Weevil hunting all the time.” Jack smiled at the memory. “There was something so attractive about the way he would kneel on their neck and clamp their hands behind their back.”

“You’re odd.”

“No, really. It was like watching ourselves an hour in the future, he was so masterful after the thrill of chasing Janet through an alleyway and he was _very_ rough with those hand clamps.”

“Oh!” Mica shook her head, clearly a little disgusted. “Did I need to know that?” 

“No.” Jack chuckled. “But I love freaking you out.”

“Mica did you--” Brian stopped in the doorway, looking at the familiar figure; he had seen pictures of him all over the archives and heard countless stories about him, but he had never actually seen him in the flesh. “Hello.”

“Brian, is it?” Jack stepped forward, looking him up and down a little. “Captain Jack Harkness.”

“I know who you are.” He smiled. “I know all about you.”

“You do?”

“You’re a lot more impressive looking in person.”

“And you’re a lot cuter in person.”

“And the rumors are true,” Brian said, stepping away. “I _heard_ you could charm the knickers off a nun.”

“I like him,” Jack said, turning back to Mica. “He’s a keeper.”

“Dont you have somewhere to be?” She asked. 

“No, I don’t think so.”

“Would you like to _find_ somewhere to be,”

“I can take a hint.” Jack laughed. “I’ll see you at home later. Have fun breaking Torchwood policy, I always did.”

“Go.”

“Have fun.” Jack chuckled and pressed a kiss to her cheek before leaving.

Brian watched him go. “You know Jack Harkness?”

“Since I was a kid,” she explained. “He’s family.”

“You’re _related_ to Jack Harkness?” he asked. “Captain Jack Harkness?”

“He’s sort of an adopted Uncle,” she said. “His-- it’s hard to explain really.”

“Try.” Brian pulled himself up on the bench. 

“My uncle Ianto was his--” Mica paused, suddenly realising she didn't know how to categorise it. “His boyfriend I suppose. He died facing the 456.”

“Wait. Your uncle was Ianto Jones?” 

“Yeah.” Mica returned to her work. “I don’t remember him much.”

“I heard stories about him,” he said. “Gwen talks about him a lot, he was the inspiration behind the virus protection program.”

“Yeah.”

“He was a very brave man.”

“My mam said he was a stupid man, but I’ve always admired him.”

“I’m a little intimidated by you now.”

“Why?” Mica turned back to face him, taking off her goggles for the first time. 

“You have serious connections.”

“And lot to live up to,” she said. “Don’t compare us. I have enough problems with the inferiority complex as it is.”

Brain pulled her over by her wrist and pressed a kiss against her lips. “You don’t look inferior to me.”

“We’re working.” She smiled against his lips when he kissed her for a second time. “Gwen would do her nut.”

“Am I being unprofessional?”

"Very." Mica slipped away from his grasp and ruffled his hair before returning to her work. "Save it for later, Doctor."


	14. Chapter 14

Mica typed some commands into the computer system, looking around to make sure nobody was looking. Gwen was in her office on the phone with a UNIT Major, Tim was typing up a report in the slowest fashion she had ever seen and Brian was closely dissecting the brain of something she could only describe as looking like an alien daddy long legs. The rest of the team had gone home for the night, but the four of them still remained. 

 

She scrolled down the file until she got to the camouflaged document and typed in a new access code, tilting her screen downwards when the surveillance kicked in. Ianto was almost ready, just a few more hours and the heat would have completely worked its way through his system. 

 

She closed the files and pushed herself away from the desk, walking over to Tim’s station. She perched on the edge and tapped him on the shoulder.

 

“You look bored,” she said. 

 

“That’s because i _am_ bored.” Tim spoke without looking away from the screen. “You don’t fancy making me a coffee do you?”

 

“No problem. What are you typing up?”

 

“My monthly finance report. It’s absolutely riveting.”

 

“Do you want me to type it up for you?” she offered. “I’m a fast typer and I’m not really doing anything.”

 

Tim let a slow smile tug at his lips as he looked up at her. “You want rid of me, don’t you?”

 

“No, I’m just being nice.”

 

“Everyone knows, you know?” he said. “About you and Brian.”

 

“Everyone?”

 

“Apart from Gwen,” he laughed. “She knows nothing about anything.”

 

“Are you going to tell her?”

 

“If I tell her that, you would probably tell her my secrets, wouldn’t you?.” He looked up at Mica.

 

“Everything.”

 

“So, let me guess, you want to finish my report for me so that I’ll go home and you and the doc can make gooey eyes over alien insect brains, is that it?”

 

“You got me.” 

 

“Well, you don't have to tell me twice.” He stood up and slipped on his jacket. “Email it to Gwen when you’re done from my account to make it look like I finished it at home.”

 

“Of course, you could just finish it at home.”

 

“Or you could do it and I can have a night off and not tell Gwen about your little rendezvous in the alien morgue this morning.”

 

“Rendezvous?”

 

“You’re a dirty girl.”

 

Mica slapped him around the back of the head. “We were cataloguing.”

 

“That’s a new name for it.”

 

Mica sighed and slumped down in his chair. “Go home Timothy.”

 

Tim made a swift exit and Mica made quick work of his report, squinting at his notes to decipher his handwriting. 

 

“What are you doing?” Brian appeared behind her, slipping his hands over her shoulders. “That’s Tim’s job.”

 

“He had to go,” she lied. “I said I would finish it off for him.”

 

“Are you free tonight?”

 

“Not really. I’m meeting Jack.”

 

“What for?” he asked. 

 

“He wanted to take me to the pictures yesterday, but we had plans so I said that we could go out tonight.”

 

“You and Jack _are_ just friends?” he asked. “Aren’t you?”

 

“He’s my best friend.”

 

“But he’s _really_ attractive and I’ve heard stories about--”

 

“Fancy him for yourself?” She teased. “You can take my place if you like and hold hands in the dark, although he quite fancies you so I think he’d rather hold something else.”

 

“Very funny.”

 

“Yeah, I think so too.”

 

Brian leaned into her ear. “I’d rather do things with you in the dark.”

 

“Another night, I promise.”

 

“In that case, I should probably go home if there’s nothing for me here.”

 

“I’ll see you in the morning.” Mica looked into Gwen’s office to check she wasn’t looking before turning around and pulling him down into a kiss. 

 

“Are you sure you don’t want to stand him up?” 

 

“Positive.”

 

“Well, if you change your mind you know where I am.”

 

Mica let him go and leaned back in the chair, stretching out to look into Gwen’s office. She had been on the phone forever and by the the look of her animated conversation it was going to take a while. Tim and Brian had been easy to get rid of, but gwen Cooper was a different animal entirely.

* * *

Jack was sitting in the living room with Rhiannon and Johnny watching television when his phone rang. It was late, well past eleven, and the thunder was rumbling like a hungry giant.

 

“Hello?” Jack walked out of the room to take the call, shutting the door behind him. “How are you getting on?” 

 

“It took a while but they've gone.” Mica sounded tired. “It took me forever to get rid of Gwen.”

 

“But she's definitely gone now?”

 

“Yes. I followed her home on the CCTV network. She's in the house with Rhys as we speak and I've set up an alert for any activity outside her house just in case, so the coast is nice and clear.”

 

“Okay I'm on my way.” Jack held the phone between his shoulder and his ear as he put on his coat. “Do you have everything ready?”

 

“Yeah, I just need you now. I've set the lab up too so we can get started as soon as the scan is done. With any luck we should have the antidote well on its way by the morning.”

 

Jack smiled as he buttoned his coat. “You're loving this aren't you?”

 

“What's not to love. Technology, Chemicals, excitement and the possibility of bringing back the dead. It's like I've discovered radiation.“

 

“I'll be there soon.”

 

“Oh, on your way in could you pick up some chips?” she asked. “I'm starving!”

 

“Then I'll be a little longer. It's Friday night it'll be packed.”

 

“See you when you get in then. I'll make my way through the filth.”

 

Jack hung up and turned around; he jumped at the sight of Rhiannon who stood with her arms crossed, waiting an explanation. “Hey!”

 

“Going somewhere?”

 

“Just out.”

 

“Out where?” she asked.

 

“For chips” he said. “I have a craving for vinegar.”

 

“So that wasn't Mica on the phone then?”

 

“I--”

 

“Don't lie to me.” She stepped a little closer. Jack Harkness had fought aliens and monsters, he had faced the end of the world more times than he could count, but nothing was quite as terrifying as Rhiannon Davies' evil glare. “Truth please.”

 

“She wants chips.”

 

“Why?”

 

“Stuck at work,” he said. “Night shift.”

 

“Is she in some kind of trouble?”

 

“No.”

 

“Are you sure?”

 

“Yes.” Jack put a reassuring hand on her shoulder. “She's fine, I promise you.”

 

“Is she pregnant?” Rhiannon asked suddenly. “Because if she is i’m going to kill her.”

 

“Pregnant?” Jack laughed. “Why the hell would she be pregnant?”

 

“She's been acting very odd recently. Staying out late, sometimes all night, then there was all that stuff with that doctor Brian a few days ago. Now she rings you to take chips to her at the factory. Has she got herself up the duff?”

 

“No.”

 

“I'm not letting you leave until you promise me that she's all right.” Rhiannon stood in front of the stairs. “She never tells me anything anymore, so I'm going to have to presume that if there's something going on you know about it.”

 

“She's fine.”

 

“Promise me?”

 

“I promise.”

 

“Swear on her life.”

 

“I swear on her life,” Jack said seriously. “She’s absolutely fine. She’s not in trouble, she’s not pregnant; she’s just hungry.”

 

Rhiannon stepped to the side. “If you're lying I'll hurt you. Repeatedly.”

 

“Noted.” He kissed her cheek and left, tucking his collar up to shield from the rain.

* * *

Mica walked into the room and shut the heavy door behind her. It had taken seven showers to scrub the smell off her skin when Jack had taken her there the last time, but not this time; this time she was prepared. She took down her hood and unzipped her boiler suit before taking off her boots and stepping out of it. She put it in a yellow hazard bag and removed her gloves. She washed her hands at the sink in the corner and dried them, then shook out her hair.

 

Walking over to drawer number fourteen, Mica opened it just the way Jack had before, then pulled it out. She released the glass lid and watched as it disappeared back into the wall.

 

“You came all prepared.” Jack stood in the corner eating chips and offered her one. “Hungry?”

 

“Thanks.” She took a chip and then checked the display on the built-in computer. “He's ready.”

 

“Great.”

 

“Hold on a minute.” She turned to face Jack. “How did you get down here?”

 

He smiled and pointed to a doorway. “I used the elevator.”

 

“There's a lift?”

 

“Oh yeah.” Jack leaned against the door laughing just a little. “Did I forget to mention that?”

 

She moved closer and stole the whole packet of chips. “There's a lift and you made me go all the way through the corridors, the Weevil shit and the sewers?”

 

“I took you the fun way first. My way is boring, just a few corridors and a lift.”

 

“But I would’ve been clean?” she asked.

 

“Yeah.”

 

Mica pushed his chest hard and he stumbled back and hit the door with a slam, then laughed.

 

“It's a bloody good job you're immortal.”

 

“Why's that?”

 

“Because you wouldn't last ten minutes in this world otherwise”

* * *

“Do you think Mica’s up to something?” Rhiannon switched off the TV and turned to face her husband.

 

“Oi! I was watching that! It was just starting to get good.” Johnny took the remote and switched it back on. “

 

Rhiannon switched it off. “And I have something important to talk to you about.”

 

“That's what the adverts are for.” He took the remote back and turned the TV back, then hid it underneath a cushion.

 

“This is about Mica!”

 

“I'm listening.” He turned to face her. “We’ve got about three minutes before the second half starts.”

 

Rhiannon sighed. “She's been acting very odd recently. Staying out late, sometimes all night--”

 

“You told me off two days ago for being all over the top,” Johnny reminded her. “You’re not allowed to do the same thing.” 

 

“This is different.”

 

“How?”

 

“I’m not beating the shit out of anybody.” 

 

“I punched the lad. Once.”

 

“She’s just being so odd, Johnny.

 

“She's not been acting odd,” Johnny said. “She's been acting like a normal eighteen year old, you said that yourself.”

 

“But she's never done that, has she?”

 

“Well maybe it's time that she did. She's always been a miserable sod, she never went out, now she's out all the time. It's brilliant. Maybe she'll shack up with her posh doc and move out.”

 

“But I don't think she's just going to the pub.” She sighed. “I think she's in trouble.”

 

Johnny put his arm around her and watched the Colgate advert for a moment in silence. “Don't worry, love.”

 

“She's obsessed with our Ianto, she's so determined to be like him and he lived a double life.”

 

“Rhiannon?” Johnny laughed. “You think she’s living a double life?”

 

“No, but it’s her obsession. It’s getting worse and she didn’t even bloody know him. He showed up once a month and gave her a tenner!”

 

“Oh I dunno, she was always asking him things wasn’t she?” 

 

“She’s a nosy sod, she asks everyone everything.”

 

“Well better to obsess over your brother than my lazy twat of a brother,” he said. “At least Ianto had a job.”

 

“At least yours is alive.”

 

“I can’t argue that one.”

 

“I heard her talking to Gwen Cooper the other day. She's trouble that one!”

 

“Look.” Johnny pulled her into his side. “She tells Jack everything, if she's in trouble then he'll sort it out. He'd never let anything happen to her.”

 

“I know.”

 

“Besides, I’ve been on the receiving end of that girls anger recently, and you told me to but out so you should too.”

 

“I suppose you're--”

 

“Shh.” Johnny sat forward in his seat as the adverts finished and the program restarted. “It's starting.”

* * *

Mica walked over to Ianto's body and touched the skin on his arm. “He's warm.”

 

“It's the heat.”

 

“It feels weird, like someone's put him in a microwave on defrost.”

 

“That's basically what we've done.” Jack stroked the skin on Ianto’s cheek. “I never thought I would ever feel him warm again.”

 

“Well, with any luck it won't just be because he's defrosted.” She took the device and pressed some buttons waiting for the Green light to activate. “Ready for this?”

 

“as ready as I'll ever be.”

 

She hovered the device above him watching the display as numbers and letters flashed; it made a whirring noise and then a beep as she swept it over his body slowly right from the tip of his head to his toes. When it finished, the device let out a high pitched tone and the green light turned to red.

 

“That's it?” Jack asked. “That's it done?”

 

“Yeah, I told you it was simple.” She walked over to the computer embedded into the wall and attached the device. She hovered her fingers over the keyboard and typed in some commands then waited for a long list to appear on the screen. “That's our particle breakdown right there,” she said. “All I need to do now is group them together and see what toxins we're looking at.”

 

“That's impressive.”

 

“I know. This program will search the database and identify all the chemicals we know exist, and quickly too.” The screen flashed. “Then all I have to do is access the cryogenics and biology databases to irradiate all the toxins we would expect to see.”

 

“Which would leave us with the virus.” Jack smiled. “That's clever.”

 

“It'll take a little while to collect all the data and analyse it, maybe an hour or so.” She sighed. “Until then we wait. I brought tea.”

 

“You're really good at this.” Jack sat down on the floor resting his head against the wall.

 

Mica took out a flask of tea from her rucksack and put it down between them and poured out two cups; she handed one to him. “What, brining tea?”

 

Jack smiled. “No. This. Torchwood. He would've been proud.”

 

“You think so?”

 

“I'm sure of it.”

 

She took a drink of her tea and sat down beside him. “I've never been good at a job before. I always failed; I mixed up service washes at the laundrette, my labels were always wonky at the factory and The Black Horse?” She laughed. “Well there's a three inch head on my pints.”

 

“So that's why they let you go?”

 

“No. I Punched Steven Elliott in the face for staring at somewhere his eyes shouldn't have been.”

 

“That's my girl.”

 

Mica looked over at Ianto's body. “He missed my birthday you know?” She said. “Every year.”

 

“He did?”

 

“Yep. He didn’t mean to, he was just always working.” She sighed. “He used to come over and take me to McDonalds and then for a walk in the Park. He never pushed me as high on the swings as I wanted to though.”

 

“Yeah, that’s Ianto.” Jack laughed a little. “He had issues.”

 

“We all have issues.”

 

“He did care about you even if he didn't show it,” Jack said. “I talked about you all the time.”

 

“I know.”

 

“Ianto was never really a touchy-feely person. The first time I hugged him it was like he didn't know what it was for, he tried to shake my hand.” Jack stood up and walked over to Ianto and ran his fingers over his lips; they were starting to go cold again, recovering from the artificial heat. “But when he loved you he loved you.”

 

Mica joined him and wrapped her arm around his waist, closing her eyes. “Soon he'll be here again.”

 

“You look shattered.” Jack pressed a kiss against her head. “You could do with some sleep.”

 

“I've been here since eight this morning.”

 

“Why don't you go and get some rest?” he suggested. “I can cope down here for a while.”

 

“What about the results?”

 

“I can manage. I'll bring them up when they're done.”

 

“Thanks Jack.” She kissed his cheek and walked towards the door, then stepped into the lift.

 

Jack pulled a seat up beside Ianto and sat down then took his stiff hand and kissed it. “Not long now.”


	15. Chapter 15

Jack opened up a small cage and took out Bernard the rat. He had been wriggling around twelve minutes ago, running around his little wire cage full of life. Now he was floppy and still, drained of everything. He put him down on the desk in the lab and stroked his head a little

 

“Poor little fella,” he said. “One minute he was running around and the next thing he knows he’s being injected with a deadly alien virus.”

 

“I do feel bad.”

 

“It was for the greater good, my friend.” Jack said, looking down at him. 

 

“Well it definitely killed him.” Mica held the syringe to Bernard’s neck and plunged it in, then emptied the contents into him. “Let's see if we can bring him back to life.”

 

Jack put Bernard back in his cage and laid him down on the newspaper. “Fourth time lucky.”

 

“Glenda, Peter and Simon all died for a good cause.” She looked at the other cages guiltily. “But, I think we have it now.”

 

They sat down and waited, staring down at the lifeless creature in the cage. “What time is it?”

 

“Almost three” She yawned. “We've got about five hours until the others start to come in.”

 

“Maybe we should move this operation into the other lab.”

 

“What other lab?”

 

Jack smiled. “You don't think I would have a morgue tucked away without a secret lab too, do you?”

 

“You think of everything.”

 

“I'm a great believer in being prepared for the future.” Jack peeked inside the cage. “Bernard's chest is moving.”

 

“That's a good sign.”

 

“Then again Glenda was fine until she exploded.”

 

“We'll give it five more minutes,” Mica decided. “To be safe.”

* * *

Jack and Mica stood in the morgue and looked down at Ianto; they had been there for fifteen minutes now, just looking down at him. Mica grasped the syringe in her hand, tightening and loosening her grip, taking deep breaths. 

 

“So, we’re doing this?” Jack asked. “We’re bringing him back.”

 

“Yeah, once I get the nerve.”

 

“You don’t have to if you don’t--”

 

“I want to,” Mica said. “It’s just never been done, has it?”

 

“Not like this.”

 

“It could change the whole history of science as we know it.” She looked at the syringe. “It could change our _lives_ as we know it.”

 

“But for the better, right?” Jack asked. “It’s the right thing, isn’t it?”

 

“Probably not.” Mica laughed lightly. “It’s messing with nature.”

 

“If we do this, then we should do it now.”

 

“We’re doing this,” Mica said finally. “This is the right thing for all of us.”

 

“Good. Yeah. Good.”

 

Jack took a deep breath and took off Ianto's tie and let it hang loose around his neck, then opened up his waistcoat and his shirt; it had been a long time since he had seen him bare chested, over seventy-five years if he didn’t count his visits to the past, but he still looked the same. His slipped his fingers over Ianto’s neck and let his hand rest over his heart.

 

All of a mudden Mica laughed a little and broke the silence.

 

“What are _you_ laughing at?”

 

“I never thought about him having fuzzy chest hair.”

 

Jack glared at her and attached the heart monitor to his chest. “I think I'd be worried if you thought about whether or not your Uncle had chest hair.”

 

“He always seemed so much like the neat type you know?” she asked. “Always so groomed and neat.”

 

“He was, but he was all about the natural edge. No Veet in sight for Ianto.” He put more wires on Ianto's forehead and walked over to the computer. “Okay so we're all set up.”

 

“So this is it then?” Mica asked.

 

“Yeah.”

 

“Right.” She held out the syringe to Jack. “You do it.”

 

“Are you sure?”

 

She nodded. “It's only right.”

 

Jack slipped the syringe into Ianto’s neck and looked at Mica before pushing the antidote into his body, then waited.

* * *

Mica looked over at Jack as he sat on the floor with his head in his hands and took the wires off Ianto's body. She fastened his buttons back up and tied his tie in a half-Windsor knot, smoothing out the collar of his shirt. Closing her eyes, Mica let a tear fall from her eyes, then wiped it away before walking over to stand in front of Jack

 

“I'm sorry,” She said. “I really thought it would work.”

 

Jack didn't reply; he sat still, moving to rest his head on the cold tiles of the morgue as he stared blankly ahead.

 

“I don't know what happened.” She sat down beside him. “Maybe I had the virus wrong, maybe the antidote wasn't the one we were looking for.”

 

“It wasn’t meant to be.”

 

“I’m sorry.”

 

“I feel like I've lost him all over again.” Jack raised his tear-filled eyes to meet hers. “It hurts even more than before, how is that even possible?”

 

“Maybe we can look at the results again. Maybe we were close, an inch off.”

 

Jack shook his head, resting his hand over hers. “No.”

 

“Jack--”

 

“I can't take it again. I had hope, I thought he would come back and now--” Jack crumbled into his hands again. “He's gone again.”

 

Mica put her arm around Jack and cradled him, letting him rest on her lap. “I'm sorry.”

 

“It's not your fault.”

 

“it is.”

 

“No. You tried and that’s enough.”

 

“We can try something else,” she suggested. “I'll show these results to Brian today and see what he says, maybe he can think of something, see something I didn’t.”

 

“No!” Jack moved away from her. “No, nobody else gets involved with this.”

 

“I’ll tell him It’s just trials on rats. He'll believe that.”

 

“No!”

 

“Jack--”

 

“There is nothing else we can do.” He sighed, letting his head fall back onto the tiled wall. “Death is forever for everyone but me.”

 

“I won’t give up.”

 

“Yes you will.” Jack pulled himself to his feet and walked over to Ianto, pressing a kiss against his forehead. “He’s dead and that’s the way it is.”

 

“I can try other things.”

 

“No.” Jack typed a code into the keypad and watched the glass slide back over Ianto’s body again, encasing him back into the chamber. “We’ll store him until tomorrow, then we’ll sneak him out and take his body to the crematorium, restoring things back to they should be.”

 

“I won’t let you do that,” Mica said tearfully. “I’m not giving up on him.”

 

“There’s nothing that can be done, what’s the point in trying?”

 

“He would’ve never given up on you like this!”

 

Jack put his hands on her shoulders. “This is killing me, Mica. I’ve lived a lifetime mourning him and now I have to start all over again.”

 

“Low level cryogenics will keep his core temperature down, they’ll keep him at this level for a seven days, right?”

 

“Yeah.”

 

“Then give me those seven days to work on him?” she asked. “After that I’ll give up, but just give the time and I’ll crack this, I swear.”

 

“Seven days?” 

 

“Thats all I ask.”

 

Jack nodded. “Okay.”

 

“So go home and I’ll work on this.”

 

“I’m not going home,” Jack said. “I’m staying here with him.”

 

“I’ll crack this,”she said. “I’ll find a way, I know I will.”

 

“I love you.” Jack slipped his arms around her and pulled her in close. “That isn’t going to change when this doesn’t work.”

 

“I know.”

* * *

Mica hunched over her desk, looking at the results of two sets of tests; she had given Pedro the rat a dose of the virus, then scanned him with the device. The results were the same, there was no difference between the virus in a rat and the virus in a human. She had hoped she would find something, anything but nothing was working.

 

“What are you doing?” Brian asked. “You’ve been like this all day.”

 

“Like what?”

 

“Engrossed in this special project.”

 

Mica sighed. “It’s important to me.”

 

“That’s okay,” he chuckled. “I wasn’t telling you to stop.”

 

“I’ve been working on something,” she explained. “It was some technology I found that had been shelved, but I fixed it.”

 

“What technology?”

 

Mica sighed and took the autopsy device out of her pocket, then handed it to him. “It’s an automatic autopsy device.”

 

“Does it work?”

 

“Seems to.”

 

“When were you going to tell me?”

 

“Today,” she lied. “I’ve been running tests on it.”

 

“And these are the tests?” Brian looked over the results on the screen. 

 

“Yeah.”

 

“They look good.” He scrolled down the screen to look at the particle breakdown. “Very detailed.”

 

“I’m not sure how accurate they are.I made a virus and an antidote, but it’s not working and driving me mad.”

 

“Can I test this out?” he asked. 

 

“Yeah.” Mica sighed. “It should help us do diagnostics a lot quicker.”

 

“You look tired.”

 

“I’m fine.” She took a drink of her coffee. “I just need more caffeine.”

 

“And distant,” Brian added, sitting down on her desk. “You’ve barely spoken to me all day.”

 

“I’m just busy.”

 

“Do you want to do something tonight?” he asked. “You can come around and I’ll make you something posh.”

 

Mica smiled a little, resting her hand on his. “Not tonight, I’m not up to it.”

 

“I can see that.” Brian sighed and stood up. “I’m really sorry to do this Mica.”

 

“To do what?”

 

“As Torchwood’s senior medical officer I have no option but to declare you unfit for duty under section nineteen of the Torchwood working code.”

 

“What?” Mica glared at him. “On what grounds?”

 

“You’re overtired,” he said. “You need to rest and stay away until you do.”

 

“Fuck off Brian.” Mica pushed herself away from her desk and walked away.

 

“I’m still your boss you know?” Brian said, catching her arm as she made her way towards the coffee machine. “I can still give you a verbal warning for insubordination.”

 

“Then give it, but I’m not going home.”

 

“Fine.” Brian crossed his arms over his chest. “Consider this your first verbal warning.”

 

“I will.”

 

“Mica!” Gwen dashed through the hub towards her. “Drop what you’re doing and come with me.”

 

“Where are we going?”

 

“I picked up some signals in a warehouse, crazy rift energy and fourteen heat signals.”

 

“She’s not fit,” Brian said. “She’s overtired.”

 

“She looks fine to me,” Gwen said as she rushed out the door. “She can go home early, but I need all hands on deck right now and that means you too.”

 

“You heard her,” Mica gloated. “Hustle.”

 

“You’re unfit.”

 

“And you’ve been overruled, so just drop it.”


	16. Chapter 16

Brian shone a light into Mica's eyes as she sat on the autopsy table, her legs dangling over the edge. It was the first time Mica had needed any medical attention; she had been the first one into the warehouse after Gwen and the first one to subdue one of the creatures, shocking it with her stun gun before it could see her move. Of course she had also been the only one to leave the warehouse unconscious, carried out over Brian’s shoulder and bundled into the Torchwood SUV. It had been the last creature that had done it, knocking her out with a backwards move of its long neck, causing Mica to fly through the air and land with her head on one of the heavy wooden crates. 

 

"Look left," Brian instructed. "And now right?"

 

"I'm fine." Mica complained.

 

"Let me be the judge of that. Now look up."

 

Mica sighed and did as she was told, following every instruction to the letter just to get him off her back.

 

"And down?" Brian smiled a little; Mica had been the first person he had ever encountered that managed to roll her eyes in frustration and pass a checkup at the same time. "I don't see any signs of concussion. Your pupils look fine, so you’ll live." 

 

"I told you I was fine. I’m indestructible, me." Mica started to jump down, only to be stopped by a pair of hands on her waist. 

 

"We're not done,” he said. “You don’t escape that easily.”

 

"What now?"

 

"Your neck," he said. “How does it feel?”

 

"I _do_ have a pain in my neck, as you come to mention it."

 

"Where?" Brain put his pen torch back in his pocket and rested his hands on her neck, feeling around for damage. “Where’s the pain?”.

 

"He's standing right in front of me."

 

"Very funny." Brian bit back a smile. "Now shut up and turn your head to the left." 

 

"This is a waste of time," Mica said. “I’ve had worse.”

 

"And to the right," he ordered. "Now look at me." 

 

Mica did as she was instructed and looked ahead, her eyes finding his gaze. 

 

"Now kiss me?" Brian instructed, his tone staying the same.

 

"That's not a part of the exam," Mica said with a smile. 

 

"It's new." 

 

"Well I would hate to be insubordinate to my superior twice in one day." Mica leaned forward a little and kissed him softly, slipping her arms around his neck to draw him in. "Did I pass?"

 

"Nope." Brian kissed her again. "I'm taking you home and no arguments."

 

"Fine,” Mica sighed, giving in. “But I'll be in early tomorrow."

 

"If you go home and promise to sleep, then I won't argue." 

 

"Okay."

 

"I'll take you." Brian took her hand and helped her down, then slipped his arm around her shoulder. "You worried me today. Seeing you unconscious like that." 

 

"Sorry." Mica wrapped her arm around his waist, hugging him a little as they walked through the hub. "I'll try to stay conscious from now on."

 

"That would help." 

 

"Where are you two going?" Gwen asked, appearing in the doorway. 

 

"I'm taking her home," Brian said. "She's unfit for duty."

 

"Take my car." Gwen chucked him her keys. "I'm not having her on that bike after the day she's had. Just get it back to me in the morning, I'll take the company car home." 

 

"Will your dad be home?" Brian asked. 

 

"Probably." 

 

"I'll drop you off down the street then."

 

"Don't be silly," Mica chuckled. "You're coming in for tea."

* * *

Jack felt his phone vibrate in his pocket as he sat in the secret mortuary deep underneath the Cardiff street. It was the third call in twenty minutes and he knew who it was; he didn’t want to speak to Rhiannon, he didn’t want to speak to anyone. It rang again twice in close succession and on the third try, the sixth such call in twenty five minutes, Jack finally answered it with a gloomy hello.

 

“Are you coming home for tea?” she asked cheerfully. “Mica brought home that Doctor Brian and I need you to be the buffer between him and Johnny.”

 

“I’m not really hungry.”

 

“I don’t care if you’re hungry,” she said. “I just need you here.”

 

Jack sighed heavily and leaned his head against the cold wall. “Sorry, I can’t come home right now.”

 

“Are you alright?” Rhiannon questioned, suddenly changing her tone from cheery to mothering. “You sound awful.”

 

“Venus flu,” Jack lied; it was easy to lie. “I don’t want you to get it.”

 

“Venus flu?” Rhiannon asked, unconvinced. “You’ve not been to sodding Venus, you said it was boring last time.”

 

“That was years ago,” Jack said. “It’s under new management.”

 

“Venus has management?”

 

“All the vacation planets have management.” Jack looked down at Ianto, slipping his fingers over his hair, smoothing it out. “I’ll come home when I’m better.”

 

“Well, make sure you drink plenty of water and get some rest. Last time you had intergalactic man flu you died from exhaustion and dehydration. I’m not having that again, so just take care of yourself.”

 

“I don’t see what the big deal is, I would just come back again.” Jack sighed, caressing the Welshman’s cold cheek. “It’s not like I can die permanently, is it?”

 

“No, we’re never getting shot of you.” Rhiannon sighed audibly through the phone. “I’ve got to go, Johnny has Brian on his own and I don’t trust that sod as far as I could throw him.”

 

“I love you, Rhi.”

 

“You’re not going to shoot yourself in the head again are you?” Rhiannon asked. “Because you promised you wouldn’t do that. It traumatised David when he saw you last time and it’s not bloody healthy.”

 

“No.” Jack looked at his empty gun lying on the floor of the morgue. “I’ve got no bullets.”

 

“Get over your fake bloody flu and come home you daft sod.”

 

“Not tonight.”

 

“There’s no talking to you when you’re like this,” Rhiannon said. “I don’t know how my brother ever put up with your moods.”

 

“I was less moody back then.”

 

“Bollocks.” Rhiannon said and Jack smiled just a little. “Come home when you’re better, or if you need a hug.”

 

“I’ll be home soon,” Jack promised. “Don’t let Johnny disfigure the Brian kid, Mica likes him.”

 

Jack said his goodbyes and put his phone away, looking down at Ianto and sighed. “Are you ever coming back?” Jack asked him, waiting long enough for him to answer. “I kinda need you. Even if you just come back long enough for me to kiss you and tell you the stuff I never got the guts to, I could live with that.”

 

Jack felt a tear roll down his cheek and splash onto Ianto’s skin and he wiped it away, pressing a kiss to his lover’s lips. “If this was a fairytale you would wake up. I’m handsome enough I think and I was a prince in a former life, so I would have the necessary qualifications. But life ain’t no fairytale, is it? Maybe we don’t get a happy ending this time.”

 

Jack smoothed down Ianto’s tie and straightened it. He was sick of one way conversations, but that wouldn’t stop him talking. Sometimes he would speak and think about what Ianto would say back, but he didn’t always know; there was still a lot about Ianto Jones that he didn’t understand. He was an enigma.

 

“What would you think if you knew we were trying to bring you back?” Jack asked him, thinking out loud. “Would it disturb you, pulling you out of the darkness into the light, or would it make you happy to know that you weren’t just the guy that faded into the background and made the coffee?”

 

He closed his eyes, trying to think of Ianto’s answer, then smiled a little. “Yeah. Maybe a little of both.”

 

Jack typed a few numbers into the panel on the wall and watched the glass cover him before pushing him back into the wall. He wasn’t going to leave him, but he couldn’t talk to him when he knew he couldn’t reply. He sat down on the floor and stared straight ahead continuing his vigil into the second day.

* * *

“Jack?” Mica stood in the doorway of the Morgue and crossed her arms, looking over at Jack as he stared blankly into the chamber. 

 

“Jack?” She called his name again. “You can’t do this forever.”

 

Mica sighed and walked over to him, putting her hand on his shoulder. She had been working hard over the last three days, too hard if she believed Brian, but she wasn’t giving up. She hadn’t told Jack that Brian had been helping her, totally unaware as to what he was actually helping with, but she was unsure if she could actually do it on her own. Brian trusted her and she was lying to him, but there wasn't another option.

 

“Jack?” Mica called his name again, gently rubbing his shoulder.

 

Jack looked down at Ianto and put his hands of the glass of the Cryogenic chamber. It had been three days since they tried to revive him and failed, but Jack couldn't leave his side. Losing him once had been torture, but losing him twice was a new kind of hell. He hadn't shaved since, or eaten, or even had a drink; he stunk too. If Ianto Jones were to wake up at that moment he would be ashamed at the man staring through the glass at him, of course that was presuming that he recognised him at all.

 

“Why are you still here?” Mica asked. “There’s nothing you can do.”

 

“Where else would I go?” Jack asked, slipping his hand over the one that rested on his shoulder.

 

“You could go home?” She suggested. “Mam would make you a huge cup of tea and we have cake in the cupboard my dad doesn't know about. Chocolate.”

 

“And what would I do?” Jack asked again. “Look at your mother and pretend I'm fine, pretend that chocolate cake is the solver of all problems?”

 

“Eat, sleep, drink? Anything really, but I'm begging you to wash.”

 

“Why?”

 

“You smell,” she told him bluntly. “Really badly.”

 

“If he woke up he would sort me out.” Jack smiled sadly and stroked the glass above Ianto's face. “I'm waiting for it.”

 

“We both are.”

 

“I keep talking to him,” Jack confessed. “Just trying to hear his voice, but it’s not there and I’m scared because I don’t know if I can remember it. I don’t know if I remember his smile, or just think that I do.” 

 

“Of course you can remember it.”

 

“It’s driving me crazy. I fill in his end of the conversation, trying just to--” Jack sighed. “I don’t even know what I’m trying to do.”

 

Mica put her hand over his, moving it away from the chamber. “Maybe you just need to stop looking at him for a while?”

 

“I was so sure it would work.” Jack gazed down at the Welshman, he looked pristine and cold again. “Our theory was so strong. The antidote worked on the rat and I was _so_ sure I would get to hold him again.”

 

“I know.” Mica's voice cracked a little. “I'm sorry.”

 

“It's not your fault.” Jack said, holding her hand. “It's nobody's fault.”

 

“I'm not giving up,” Mica promised. “I’m sure I’m getting closer to a solution.”

 

“Maybe you should.”

 

“Why?”

 

“It feels worse now than it ever did, it's like I have hope that he'll come back, but inside I know he never will.”

 

“You can't know that.”

 

Jack sighed and turned to face her. “It's been three days Mica, and what have we achieved?” He looked at Ianto again. "Nothing, that's what." 

 

“We're closer than we were a week ago. Sometimes there's no such thing as a quick fix.”

 

“And sometimes there’s no fix at all,” Jack said simply. “Maybe this is all an empty dream?”

 

Mica sighed and turned Jack around roughly by his arm. “Why are you giving up?”

 

“Mica--”

 

“No. why are you giving up on him?”

 

“Could you just leave me?” Jack asked. “I don't want you to see me this way.”

 

“Jack--”

 

“Leave me. Please.”

 

“If that’s the way you want it.” Mica walked towards the door and didn't look back, then headed for the shooting range.

* * *

“I thought I would find you here.”

 

Gwen walked into the shooting range and leaned on the wall, watching Mica as she stared straight ahead and blew the heads off a pack of aliens with a semi-automatic. It had been days since she had seen that girl smile; all she seemed to do was work on her own project with the exploding rats in the lab, occasionally stopping to make eyes at Brian and spend time shooting. She never seemed to leave, not without being physically taken home. Gwen had seen this before with new recruits, she had seen them push and push until they burned themselves out. 

 

“Your mother just called again asking if I knew where you were.” She sighed. “She thinks we're friends,and she hates that, but she never really knows where you go.”

 

“And that's the way it's going to stay. Knowing where I go, that I'm part of Torchwood, it would kill her with worry.”

 

“She's desperate to know where you are.”

 

“And what did you tell her?” Mica didn't remove her gaze from the cardboard enemy and squeezed four more bullets out of the gun in quick succession. She hit every target.

 

“I told her you were out in Newport on the piss with Donna and Claire.”

 

Two more Cardboard Weevils dead.

 

“I think you got her,” Gwen said, “that one is definitely dead.”

 

She waited for Mica to lower her gun and take off her ear protection before she walked over, then picked up one of the guns and looked at it. “I don't think there's a gun in this place that you haven't abused recently.”

 

“I'm trying to familiarise myself,” she said stubbornly. “I'm trying to be better.”

 

Gwen put the gun down. “You work too much.”

 

“Yet I still fail.” Mica sighed and hung her head. “I fail at everything eventually.”

 

“You're on a pity parade tonight.” The older woman pursed her lips and looked closely at her. “There's no call for it. In time you'll be the best.”

 

“I don't have time.”

 

“You're already bloody brilliant.” Gwen smiled. “You are.”

 

“Brilliant isn't enough.”

 

Gwen sighed. “Listen, are you all right? You seem a bit--” she searched for her words carefully. “Off.”

 

Mica shook her head, taking a moment to pick out another weapon. “I'm fine. I just needed some target practice.”

 

“It looked suspiciously like you're working out some issues if you ask me.” Gwen waited for a response, but it wasn't coming. “You've been acting really strange the last few days.”

 

“Strange?”

 

“You look down.”

 

“Don't worry about me. I'll be fine.” Mica sat down on the desk. “It's this place, there's no natural light.”

 

Gwen sat beside her, crossing her arms as they looked out over the shooting range. “When you join Torchwood you have to embark on a whole different life full of secrets and lies. After a while it starts to really eat away at you from the inside out.”

 

Mica said nothing.

 

“At first it seems really easy to handle. You create a different life for yourself and lie and it's fine. Then the stress starts to hit and you realise that what you're doing is lying about who you really are to the people who you love the most.” Gwen put her hand on her shoulder. “It gets easier though, I promise.”

 

“I hate not having anyone I can talk to. I can't talk to my mam anymore, I don't think she would understand. ”

 

“Jack?” Gwen suggested. “You can always talk to Jack.”

 

“No I can’t.” Mica shook her head. “Me and Jack-- we seem so far apart right now.”

 

“There's me, or you and Brian seem to be getting on well,” Gwen said. “A little too well, I suspect but I can look the other way if it means you have someone to talk to.”

 

“I can’t talk to him about this,” Mica sighed. “I want to, but I can’t.”

 

“The thing is--” Gwen took a deep breath. “Life is different for everyone. Two people can have the same life and sometimes those tiny differences make you so different that it's hard to see past it, but you can. I promise you, you can.”

 

“You’re right, aren’t you?” Mica jumped up. “Every variable, as small as you might think makes a difference, doesn't it?”

 

“Yeah.”

 

Mica smiled. “Everyone is different, aren’t they?”

 

“Yeah. our genetic make-up is different, our experience is different,” Gwen explained. “We're all totally Unique and that’s a very good thing, it’s what makes the human race strong and unbeatable.” 

 

“But unique is complicated?” Mica asked herself outloud. 

 

“Exactly. Sometimes we don't even understand how different we are until we really think about it. But in the end, if we try to see past them, we're all the same underneath.”

 

“And just because something doesn't work for one person it doesn't mean it won’t work for another.” Mica smiled. “You're _bloody_ brilliant, Gwen Cooper.”

 

“I am?”

 

“Yes.” Mica threw her arms around her and hugged her tightly. “Thank you.”

 

“Oh.” Gwen laughed, hugging the younger girl back tightly. “If you say so.”

 

“So Brilliant!” Mica grabbed Gwen’s face and kissed her on the lips, then ran out the room and shut the door behind her.

 

“Glad I could help.”

* * *

Jack was sleeping on the floor in the morgue, sitting up against the wall when he felt someone shaking him awake; he opened one eye and tried to focus.

 

“Jack!” Mica shook Jack violently. “Jack! Wake up!”

 

“What is it?” His voice was groggy. “What time is it?”

 

“Get up! I have something to show you!” 

 

Mica held a rat out in front of his face by the tail; it dangled lifelessly in front of him, it's cold dead body just hanging there.

 

“It's a rat.” Jack stated the obvious.

 

“It's dead!” Mica sounded just a little too happy. “Stone cold dead. Completely deceased. No life in it it whatsoever!”

 

“I can see that, it's very morbid.” He pushed it away from his face. “Take it away.”

 

Jack sat up and Mica dragged him to his feet and over the room to look at the computer screen. She brought up a diagram of two molecular structures, only very slightly different.

 

“I've spent three out of the last four days trying and failing to create a new antidote. I always came up with the same combination of chemicals, that was until yesterday when I made a breakthrough!” Mica rambled on like a mad scientist on a caffeine high. “There was one difference that I didn't allow for when trying the antidote on the rats before.”

 

Jack sighed wearily. “What's that?”

 

“They were fresh.” She moved her fingers across the keys and brought the two different molecular structures together; one showed as a shadow above the other. “I injected Samuel here – God rest his tiny little ratty soul -- with the virus, then put him into the cryogenic chamber to freeze.”

 

“That would be why he's dead.”

 

“Shut up and listen!” she ordered. “I thawed him out just like we did with Uncle Ianto and the antidote didn't work!” Mica was talking so fast that all her words were starting to blur together. “It didn't work, Jack!”

 

“I'm missing the point of your enthusiasm here.”

 

“The one thing that stopped the antidote from working was the chemicals used in cryogenics.” She turned to face him, flinging the rat onto the desk across the room with a smile. “I have discovered that it's just not possible and the antidote isn’t compatible with alien cryogenic chemicals.”

 

Jack slumped down in the chair. “So, after four days, what you're really excited about is finding out that it's actually impossible to bring him back?”

 

“Well--” Mica thought about it for a moment. “Yes. But no.”

 

“It can't be both.”

 

“There's a solution. It's so simple that I don't even know why I didn't think about it before.” Mica sighed, calming herself, and sat down beside Jack. She took his dirty hand. “Do you remember that you told me once how you wished that you could just pluck Uncle Ianto out of time?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“Well what if you can?” She took his wrist and gestured towards his Vortex Manipulator. “You've had the answer right here all along.”

 

“No way in hell. That is just not happening, ever.” Jack shook his head. “Taking Ianto out of time would alter the timeline too much. If he hadn't died the world could be so different that it would cause ripples in--”

 

“I'm not talking about that.” She waved her hand dismissively. “I’m not crazy!”

 

“You're not?” Jack asked with a laugh. “Are you sure?”

 

“What if we took him after he was dead?”

 

“Then he'd still be dead.”

 

“Not for long.” She smiled. “If we take him before Torchwood get the chance to freeze him and bring him back here we could administer the antidote and it would work. I know it would work. Sometimes you have to fail to succeed.”

 

“I couldn't get him out of Westminster.” Jack shook his head dismissively. “I can’t get past the security, or get him out.”

 

“I didn't say _you_.” Mica smiled. “I said _we_.”

 

Jack shook his head and blinked his confusion away. “Okay, so let's just presume that this idea isn't insane and would actually work. How would we even get him out? Westminster would be crawling with Unit. It would be far too dangerous for you and I couldn't manage it on my own.”

 

“You wouldn't do it on your own.”

 

“Well I'm not taking you.”

 

“I'd only follow you,” she threatened. 

 

“That would be an impossibility.”

 

“No it wouldn't.” She took a box out of her pocket and removed a small object that looked like a circuit board. “You always tell me that I'm just like a Jones,” she said, “and Jones' are determined, they're clever and they can be incredibly ruthless and underhanded when they need to be.”

 

“What is that?”

 

“This is your vortex manipulator but without all the pretty packaging,” Mica explained simply. 

 

“What did you do?” Jack asked. “What do you mean?”

 

“I’m so clever that I managed to clone it when you were sleeping. Now it doesn't do exactly what yours does, it's sort of a no frills version, but it would take me back.” Mica explained. “And if you don't help me I'll only do it on my own and without you it would be much more dangerous.”

 

“That’s blackmail!”

 

“I know.” She smiled. “Everyone needs a bodyguard that is incapable of dying, don’t they?”

 

“No.” Jack laughed at the insanity of it. “Absolutely not.”

 

“We can do this Jack,” Mica said. “We can. I can’t do it on my own and neither can you, but _we_ are brilliant and we can do this.”

 

Jack sighed and considered it for a moment. “Do I have a choice in this?”

 

“Do you want him back?”

 

“You know I do.” Jack lowered his gaze. 

 

“Then there's your answer.”

 

“Your mother,” Jack said. “Is going to kill me.”

 

“Oh relax.” Mica smiled. “You’ll come back.”


	17. Chapter 17

“So do you know what we're doing?” Jack brought a blueprint of a building up onto the wall of the hub and stood back to look at it, crossing his arms. “Because we can go through it one more time.”

 

“No. I've got it.” Mica walked up to the image and inspected it. “In through the main entrance, down the corridor, get Uncle Ianto and get out as quickly as we can. Easy.”

 

“Easy?”

 

“Well,” she laughed a little. “Maybe not _easy_ , but we can do it.” 

 

Mica walked past him on the way to the weapons store, swiping a security card through a reader before punching in a code. She stepped through the large metal door and into the room, looking around. Jack followed her, taking in the view of all the weapons; it was an arsenal to be reckoned with.

 

“There shouldn't be as many people there during the night,” Jack explained. “They run on a system of three security teams made up of police and UNIR, twelve personnel in total. Once we take them out and disconnect their comms it should give us about fifteen minutes max to get out of there before someone notices something is wrong.”

 

“See, I told you. Easy.” She looked around as she pondered what weaponry to pack. “I feel like James Bond!”

 

“The comms should be easy enough to knock off line.” Jack grabbed a few magazines to go with the guns Mica had packed into the black rucksack. “Just a case of scrambling their frequency really. They've changed it since then, but back in the day it was all surprisingly basic.”

 

“That surprises me.”

 

“Maybe basic is the wrong word,” Jack said. “But I have technology far beyond it. After that it's all relatively simple if things go to plan.”

 

“Let’s hope it goes to plan then.”

 

Jack watched her as she took weapons from the store. She slammed down four handguns two compact Uzi's, two stun gun's and six grenades. He stepped up beside her and put his hand on her shoulder.

 

“Do you think you’re going a little overboard?” he asked.

 

“I’m keeping my options open.”

 

“Grenades?” Jack questioned. “I thought we were going to do this quietly and low-key.”

 

“They're not grenades.” Mica took down two gas masks and put them on the table with some ammunition. “They're gas canisters.”

 

“Gas?”

 

“Retcon gas,” she explained. “It should knock everyone out and stop them remembering at the same time.”

 

“That's new.”

 

“And the best thing is it's non toxic. They'll just feel like they've had a bit of a heavy night.”

 

“Do they work?” Jack asked, picking one of the canisters to inspect it. Everything seemed to have the Torchwood logo stamped to the side; it never had been that good at being a secret organisation.

 

“They're very effective.” She packed them into the rucksack. “The guns are just in case, and they all have built-in silencers. I really don't want us to have to hurt anyone, but If we do I don't want to draw attention to us.”

 

“I'm impressed.” Jack smiled. “You really know what you're doing.”

 

“Torchwood is a lot different than it was in your day Uncle Jack. All new employees have to go through rigorous training. Combat, firearm, psych, medical and intelligence. It's like the SAS only with much nicer toys.” She put a small metal box into the bag, one of the only things that didn’t have the Torchwood stamp, Jack noticed. 

 

“What's that?”

 

“A little collection of drugs that we may or may not need.” She smiled. “My secret weapon and not _strictly_ official Torchwood issue.”

 

“Do I want to know?”

 

“Probably not.”

 

“Are we ready?”

 

“Well I am.” Mica looked him up and down. “You're not actually thinking of going dressed like that.”

 

“Like what?”

 

“You don't exactly blend into the background in all that 1940’s military dress, do you?” She put a bundle of clothes into the bag. “I have a change of clothing. Torchwood standard issue.”

 

“Torchwood have standard issue clothing?” Jack asked unimpressed. 

 

“It's quite stylish actually. All black reinforced leather, no buttons, perfect for blending into dark corners.”

 

“Sounds very Catwoman to me.”

 

“Catwoman wasn't bulletproof.”

 

“Bulletproof?” Jack asked. “Seriously?”

 

“Too many operatives died because they didn't have the necessary protective clothing. It doesn't stop all bullets but it has a damn good bash.” She zipped the bag. “Torchwood takes better care of us now.”

 

“Okay. Let’s go Catwoman.”

 

“I need to make a stop first.”

* * *

Mica stood outside Brian’s front door and took a moment to stare at it before knocking. She wasn’t exactly sure what she was going to say, but she knew she couldn’t just leave without telling him something. It was bad enough lying to her family without lying to him too. As far as her mother was concerned, Mica was having a weekend away with the girls but Brian understood more. She could tell Brian something closer to the truth, even if it wasn’t actually the truth at all. 

 

It took a minute for the lights to switch on and a few more before Brian appeared in the doorway; he looked tired and rubbed his eyes a little to adjust to the light of the hallway. 

 

“Mica?” Brian asked perplexed. 

 

“I know it’s late,” she said apologetically. “Or early, depending on how you see it.”

 

“It’s three in the morning,” he said. “What are you doing here, is everything alright?” 

 

Mica stepped forward and wrapped her arms around him and kissed him deeply; he pulled her close, his hands gripping her waist tightly. 

 

“Can I come in?” she asked.

 

“Yeah.”

 

“Okay.” Mica breezed past him and walked into the living room, switching the lamp on as she stood in front of him, pacing across the floor a little. She was nervous and more than a little jumpy, her fingers shaking slightly with adrenaline as she tried to pluck the speech from her head and get it out of her mouth in the right order. “So, I don’t have much time but I need to talk to you and you have to listen.”

 

“Okay.”

 

“I have to go away for a while,” she explained. “Hopefully it won’t take me long, but I _do_ have to go.”

 

“Go where?” He asked.

 

“Just away. I can’t explain where and you can’t ask me.”

 

“Wh--”

 

“I need you to cover for me with Gwen.” Mica wouldn’t let him finish; she didn’t have time for conversations or questions. “I need you to write me off for a few weeks.”

 

“With what?”

 

“Anything you like, just as long as I’m classed unfit.”

 

“No.” Brian shook his head. “I can’t do that.”

 

“Please?” Mica pleaded a little, crossing the room to rest her hands on his cheeks. “This is really important.”

 

“What are--” Brian looked at her, his eyes falling onto the black outfit she was wearing. “Why are you dressed like that?.”

 

“I can’t say.”

 

“What are you doing?” he asked suspiciously. “Where are you going?”

 

“I can’t tell you. I’m sorry.”

 

“Why?”

 

“Because,” Mica said. “You’ll try and stop me.”

 

“Is it dangerous?” he asked.

 

“Yes.”

 

“Will you be safe?”

 

“No,” Mica said simply. “I can’t guarantee it.”

 

“But you’re coming back?” Brian questioned, his hand caressing her cheek. “Aren’t you?” 

 

“I’ll try my best.”

 

“That’s it,” he said. “Wherever you’re going, I’m coming with you.”

 

“No.”

 

“Yes!”

 

“No!” Mica said firmly. “Where I’m going you can’t follow, and if you even try I’ll Taser you and wipe your memory.”

 

“Mica--”

 

“No.” She kissed him softly. “Just trust me and I’ll tell you everything later, I promise.”

 

“I don’t like this.”

 

“Are you going to write me off or not?” She asked.

 

“Fine.” Brian sighed. “I’ll write you off with a virus that you caught while experimenting, something minor but nasty. It’ll buy you some time.”

 

“Thank you.” she smiled. “I have to go.”

 

Brian pulled her close and hugged her tightly, then kissed her passionately leaving her a little dazed; he wanted to remember it, just in case he never got to do it again.

“You’re insane,” he said. “You’re insane and a complete mad bitch, but I think I love you.”

 

“This probably isn’t a good time to tell me that,” Mica said. “You shouldn’t say things like that.”

 

“Because you don’t feel the same?”

 

“No, because I do.” She kissed him softly, taking a moment to let it linger on her lips. “I’ll call you when I can, I promise.”

 

“Be careful.”

* * *

Jack carried the rucksack on his back as he led Mica to the top off the hillside by her hand. It was the same hillside that he had stood on and said goodbye to Gwen, tucked far away enough from the city to avoid the noise, but wasn't quite the country either; the perfect location. 

 

“How much further?” Mica complained.

 

“Nearly there.”

 

“Thank God!”

 

“This is where I always end up when I come back,” Jack said. “Keeping the earth co-ordinates the same really helps to reduce the possibility of ending up in the wrong time.”

 

“Has that ever actually happened?”

 

“Once or twice.”

 

“Do we really need to come all the way up here for us to leave though?” Mica asked. “You left from the laundrette last time.”

 

“Yeah, and I ended up reappearing in the middle of a Beauty salon.”

 

“A beauty salon?”

 

“Sally's Nails,” Jack said. “That's what it was before the Laundrette. No, I should always go from here. It means I don't have to Retcon people.”

 

“Hey!” Mica caught up with Jack a little as he disappeared over the top of the hill. “Retcon is for Torchwood use only!”

 

“I don't always stick by the rules.”

 

They finally reached the top of the hill and Jack put the rucksack on the ground while he regained his breath. “Quite a hike, huh?”

 

“Yeah, but look at the view.” Mica looked out at the scenery. “It's beautiful up here.”

 

“Yeah.” Jack smiled. “I brought Ianto up here on our first real date.”

 

“Romantic.”

 

“I suppose you could call it that.” He leaned back onto his hands. “I think he expected dinner and a movie, but I brought him here instead.”

 

“You never did like to be predictable.” Mica smiled. “Or practical.”

 

“I always think of it as our place,” Jack said. “My memories of him are so alive here. It was sitting here that I first knew that I loved him.”

 

“Really?”

 

“I should have told him there and then, but I was trying so hard not to feel it.”

 

“Well when we get him back you can bring him here and tell him.” She offered her hand to him and pulled him up. “Should we go and get him?”

 

Jack smiled and steadied himself. “When we get there we're going to have to procure some kind of transport to get us to London.”

 

“Procure,” Mica asked, arching an eyebrow. “Or steal?”

 

“You don't worry about that. You just let your Uncle Jack take care of the details.”

 

Jack slipped the rucksack over his shoulders and opened his wrist strap. He keyed in a few commands, then took her hand. “Hold on.”

 

Jack pressed a button and they were gone, sent up into the sky in a flash of blinding light.

* * *

When they arrived back in 2009 Mica stumbled towards the bushes and brought up her last meal.

 

“Travel sick?” Jack asked.

 

“It feels like someone ripped my stomach out through my ears.” Mica coughed up a little more and Jack rubbed her back. “Why didn't you mention that?”

 

“You never asked.”

 

Mica wiped her mouth with the back of her hand and stumbled towards Jack, suddenly a little dizzy. Time travel wasn’t as smooth as she was expecting, not that she really knew what to expect.

 

“You okay?” Jack asked, taking hold of her shoulders until she stopped swaying. “It’ll pass in a minute.”

 

“Yeah.” She took a deep breath. “Wow I'm actually in a different time.”

 

“Amazing isn't it?”

 

“It really is.” Mica smiled and bit her lip, then looked around. “Although it doesn’t look that different.”

 

“We’ve just travelled back thirteen years,” Jack explained. “One day I’ll take you back a really long way and you’ll be amazed, trust me.”

 

Mica took a deep breath. “I think I feel a little more normal now.”

 

“Okay, then let's go find us some wheels.”

* * *


	18. Chapter 18

Jack and Mica huddled in the shadows, crouched low to keep an eye on the building, sorting out their weapons. 

 

“Stick to the plan and we should be fine,” Jack whispered. “I’ll be there to back you up, if you get in trouble, just get somewhere quiet, send a signal to me and I’ll use your tracking device to find you.”

 

“Okay.” Mica slipped a stun gun into each pocket of her coat. 

 

“If I die just get him out as best you can and go back to the car. Drive to the safe spot and wait for me, I'll find you.”

 

“Try not to die,” Mica said. 

 

“Well I wasn't planning on it.”

 

“Give me two minutes and follow me in.” She handed him a gas mask and put her long Jacket on to cover the arsenal of weapons she hid on her belt, then slipped hers inside a large handbag. “It should be all clear by then.”

 

“I don't like this,” Jack whispered, slinging the backpack over his shoulder as he looked at the tall, imposing looking guard who patrolled the entrance on the inside. “I should be doing this.”

 

“I’ll be fine.”

 

“He’s huge,” Jack said. “He’s twice your size. Maybe I should go in first.”

 

“I can be more inconspicuous,” she argued. “I have a cuter face.” 

 

“I’ll have you know that many people consider me to be very cute.”

 

“I’m sure you’re quite the pretty little cupcake Uncle Jack,” Mica joked. “But they know you.”

 

“I flash him a smile and he won’t even notice. Pheromones.”

 

“I'm still five years old. I don't even register as being a threat on their databases and facial recognition software won't trigger with me like it will with you.”

 

“I still think it's stupid.”

 

“Why?”

 

“The whole thing is too Cliché!” he argued. “I think we need a better plan for getting inside.”

 

“Cliché is cliché for a reason. It works.”

 

“Yeah, in movies.”

 

She rolled her eyes. “I have the charm of a Jones, a trustworthy face of an angel and the flirting skills of a Harkness. I can't fail.”

 

“And if you do?”

 

She shrugged. “Then I shoot him and we go with plan B and hope for the best.”

 

“Just be careful.” Jack slipped on his gas mask and watched her leave.

 

Mica tied her coat and hung her handbag over her shoulder, then made her way towards the front door. The front entrance was made up of a tall glass door manned by a tall, burly security guard. She looked in the window and shot him her best smile, then waved him over.

 

“Yes, can I help you miss?” The guard asked, his hand resting on his gun as he opened the large glass door.

 

“I could do with a little help.” Mica put her hand into her pocket, finding the CCTV blocking device with her fingers and activated it. 

 

“Help?” he asked.

 

“Yeah.” The watched the red light on the security camera as it went went out, then shot him a smile. “Can you tell me where I am? I think I might be lost.”

 

“Lost in Westminster?” He chuckled.

 

“I’m bloody useless sometimes, I can't read a map to save my life.” She took a map out of her pocket and pointed to it. “I want to be here.”

 

The security guard stepped closer to her and looked at the map. “Oh that's miles away love.”

 

“Is it?” 

 

“Yeah. You want to go out the way you came and take a left, then follow the road all the way down until you get to here.” He pointed out in the distance. “After that you can ask someone else for directions because it’s still quite the walk to where you want to be.”

 

“Thank you.” He smiled up at him. “I’m glad I ran into you, I’d never find my way otherwise.”

 

“Well--” The guard dropped his hand from his gun and smiled little. “It’s not every day a lovely looking girl like you--

 

Mica pulled the stun gun out of her pocket and pressed it into his gut then pulled the trigger. The security guard's body convulsed with electricity and then dropped to the floor unconscious.

 

“Idiot.” Mica crouched down and slipped off his security pass, then pulled her gasmask out of her bag and secured it. 

 

She walked into the lobby; it was like a fortress inside with a security barrier, although it was unmanned. She swiped the security pass through the card reader and stepped through, then unfastened her coat and pulled two of the grenades from her belt. Ripping out the pins, Mica threw the Retcon canisters in front of her just in time for three soldiers and two police officers to run right into the haze of gas. A blue cloud filled the lobby, knocking them out and Mica walked through the gas, the light on her mask lighting her way.

 

Jack appeared in the doorway.

 

“That's the shortest two minutes I've ever seen.” Mica's voice was distorted by the mask but Jack could just about hear it.

 

“I was worried for a minute.” He caught Mica’s coat as she threw it to him and bundled it into the rucksack and slung it back over his shoulder, then pulled one of the guns from his belt.. “Then I remembered I was with a Jones.”

 

“Never work with family.” Mica took out her guns and pointed them at the doorway, waiting to check for more visitors. “It's far too distracting.”

 

“I've already taken out the comms,” Jack said.

 

“I did the CCTV.”

 

“Nice work.” Jack smiled. “We need to go down there, but stay on your guard. I took out one of the guards outside, but there’s still five more personnel in here to watch out for.”

* * *

Jack led Mica down the corridor that he had travelled down not so distantly in his past, peeking around every corner first to check it was safe. They had taken the rest of the security personnel out with minimal effort and two more retcon canisters; the plan was firmly in play.

 

“It's just down here,” Jack said, his voice still muffled by the mask. “Keep an eye out.”

 

“We've got about nine minutes.”

 

“Then we better hurry.” They moved down the corridor until they reached the room that contained body number 14 and Jack went inside. “Lock the door.”

 

Mica locked the door then walked over to Jack who was discarding the white sheets that had been covering Ianto.

 

“How's the rigor mortis?” She asked.

 

Jack pushed his gasmask onto the top of his head.. “He's been dead two days, so fully set in unfortunately. It's going to be a hassle to move him.”

 

Mica smiled, took a box from her belt and found a syringe and a bottle. “This should help with that.”

 

“What's is it?”

 

She filled the syringe and put it into Ianto's neck, then emptied the drug into his body. “It's a sort of cadaver muscle relaxant,” she explained. “It reverses the effect of rigor mortis a little so it should just make moving him a little easier.”

 

“Were you ever a girl scout?”

 

“How did you know?” She put the syringe away and helped Jack manoeuvre Ianto's body off the slab. “I think It's going to be easier if we drag him.”

 

“Good idea.” Jack put on his gas mask. “How long have we got?”

 

“About six minutes.”

 

“We have to move.”

 

They moved to the door and unlocked it, then Mica checked the hallway. “It's clear.”

 

Jack grabbed Ianto underneath his arms and dragged him out of the room. “I’ll go ahead. You secure the corridor,gas all the entry points just in case our buddies wake up. I can just about manage him until we have to carry him out the back. When you’re done follow me.” 

 

“I’m on it.”

 

She let Jack go ahead and took out her gun, ventured down the hallway, heading towards the doors that Jack had shown her on the old blueprint. She threw her last few retcon canisters until they exploded with a haze of blue smoke, then moved quickly after Jack.

 

“Stop!”

 

Mica froze when she heard a voice behind her followed by the click of a gun being readied for action.

 

“Stop where you are and drop your weapon!” The voice was louder this time, slightly muffled. “I will shoot if you do not drop your weapon.” 

 

Mica turned around slowly, her gun poised at the ready.

 

“Drop it!”

 

The voice came from a UNIT soldier. He wore a gas mask and pointed a rather big and scary gun in her direction. She was familiar with guns, especially big and scary military ones, but her mind went blank. They had either been wrong about the number of security personnel or one of them had recovered far too quickly.

 

“Put your gun down,” he repeated.

 

“We're just taking something that belongs to us,” she said. “We'll be gone in a minute.”

 

Jack looked down the corridor; Mica was in harm's way and there was nothing much he could do about it. Any quick moves and the soldier would shoot.

 

“Drop the body or I'll shoot her!”

 

“You’re not going to do that.” Jack slipped Ianto onto the ground and dropped his gun, putting his hands up as he walked slowly towards them. “She’s no risk to you.”

 

“Get down on your knees and put your hands behind your head,” he ordered. “Stay back.”

 

“You’re not going to shoot her.” Jack edged closer towards him. “There is nobody else coming to back you up, your communications are disabled. If you hurt _her_ I will kill you. You can’t win.”

 

Mica looked at the gun and then down at her leather armour; the Torchwood clothing was good, but generally only against everyday bullets, and she knew that it wouldn't withstand the force if he carried out his promise. She swallowed hard.

 

“You heard him.” She refused to drop her guns from their positions and stared down the barrel at him. “Stand down and nobody gets hurt.”

 

“I'll shoot,” he promised.

 

“Then do it.” Mica called his bluff. “But you’ll never see the light of day if you do.”

 

The soldier opened fire sending three bullets ripping through her armour and into her shoulder. She dropped onto the floor, letting one of the guns fall from her weak grip, and cried out in pain.

 

“Warning shot.” He warned. “Drop the gun and come with me.”

 

“No chance.” Mica groaned in pain and fired a shot with her good arm; the bullet passed through the soldier’s chest.

 

She watched him as he hit the floor and fixed her eyes onto his body; she rushed over and kicked his gun away, putting her hand over his chest to try and stop the bleeding. She took off his mask and looked into his eyes, watching as he took his last breath. 

 

“Leave him,” Jack said. “There’s nothing you can do for him.”

 

“I killed him.” Mica held onto her shoulder as she turned to Jack. “I shot him and he’s dead.”

 

“Leave him.” Jack ran to her side, helping her up. “We need to get out.”

 

“He’s dead,” she repeated.

 

“It was self defence.” Jack watched as the blood poured from her arm, the colour starting to drain from her face. He clasped his hand over her wound. “He was going to kill you.”

 

“But I killed him.” She shook her head. “Not an alien or-- he was just a soldier.”

 

“We have to go, now!” Jack took her good arm and used it to sling her over his shoulder and made his way down the corridor. “You're losing blood and you’re not going to die on me.”

 

Mica looked at Ianto's body as it lay on the cold floor. “What about him?”

 

“I'll come back for him. He's dead, you're living. You are my number one priority.”

 

He ran with her through the maze of corridors until he found the fire exit then kicked down the door. The vehicle was waiting a few yards away, hidden behind the wire fence in the bushes. He pushed his way through the hole that he had cut through the wire.

 

“You can't manage him on your own,” Mica groaned. 

 

“Yeah, well you're injured so I'll have to.” He opened the door and put her in the passenger seat, throwing the rucksack in the back, then crouched down beside her. “Stay here and start the engine.”

 

He returned to the corridor where he had left Ianto's body and picked it up the way he had Mica; it was heavier, much heavier, but he could just about manage it. The injection had made his body more flexible and that helped, but Jack still struggled.

 

There was a sound in the distance, what sounded like an army of footsteps running towards him. He pulled the last gas grenade from his pocket and threw it behind him, hoping that the people who were coming had turned up unprepared, then made his way out the door.

 

When Jack got outside he saw the car waiting outside the exit; Mica was sitting in the driver’s seat revving the engine, blood still dripping from her arm. She had covered her wound with some material from her armour, but it wasn't stopping the blood.

 

“Get in!” She shouted. “We've got company.”

 

Jack put Ianto into the back seat and joined him just in time; Mica pulled away, the passenger door still open, and drove into the path of oncoming soldiers. She ducked down her head when the blanket of bullets tore through the windscreen and heard Jack cry out as he got hit. She looked back; he was dead.

 

The blood was pouring from the wound on her shoulder seeping through the makeshift bandage. It made her weak but she kept on going, driving through the darkness without her headlights.


	19. Chapter 19

“Oh, so you're awake again are you?” Mica looked in what was left of her only surviving wing mirror and checked the road behind her as she heard Jack come back to life with a gasping breath. “Took you a while.”

 

“Yeah, well I was shot fifty times.” Jack groaned uncomfortably. “It’s not like I was taking a nap.”

 

“You're just lucky that I ducked then or we'd have more than one Welsh cadaver in this car. Tell me Jack, why is it that after all those deaths you’ve had, you still don’t know how to dodge a bloody bullet?”

 

“Hey!” Jack sounded offended. “I know how to--”

 

“It didn’t look like it,” she gloated. “You’re lucky you got Uncle Ianto down, too. I dont know if I could’ve cured both a virus and fifty gunshot wounds.”

 

“He’s fine.”Jack looked down at Ianto and smiled, then ran his hand down his cheek. “We actually got him out.”

 

“I told you we would.” She stopped at a red light and drummed her fingers on the steering wheel as a few cars drove past, keeping an eye on the road behind her.

 

Jack reached forwards and touched her shoulder, creasing up his brow in concern when she winced in pain. “We need to get that looked at.”

 

“It's fine.”

 

“You don’t sound like it’s fine.” Jack moved Ianto away from him carefully and climbed into the passenger seat. He lifted the makeshift bandage up a little, then put it back down quickly. “We need to take care of you.”

 

“I’m fine, it’s just little painful,” she said. “I gave myself a shot earlier but it's starting to wear off a little, which is kinda good because I was starting to get a little woozy.”

 

“Pull over,” Jack insisted. “I’ll drive.”

 

“Not here.” She pulled away from the junction and revved the engine up to seventy miles an hour. “We need to get away.”

 

“Don't you think you should slow down just a little?” Jack asked. “You're going to make people suspicious.”

 

“Suspicious?” She changed gear and pushed the engine to seventy-five. “Uncle Jack, this is a stolen car--”

 

“Procured,” he corrected.

 

“Fine, a procured car.” She pushed it to eighty. “A procured car which has no doubt been reported procured already, with no windscreen or back window, only one working door, half a wing mirror and a dead body in the back. Don't you think we're a little beyond whistling nervously and trying to blend in?”

 

“Very good point.”

 

“Besides--” She skidded around a corner. “I lost them once, but I'm not sure I could do it again.”

 

“I'm impressed by your getaway skills.”

 

Mica laughed. “You don't grow up on my estate without having an amazing ability to drive like a maniac, I think they inject us at birth.”

 

“That would certainly explain Ianto's driving.”

 

“We're going to have to ditch it before we get onto the M4, we really could do with something that wasn't falling to pieces.”

 

“Take a left,” Jack instructed.

 

She turned sharply and Jack held on, trying not to fall out of the space where the door used to be . 

 

“Why are we going this way?” she asked.

 

“There's a Tesco down here” he said. “Let's do some shopping.”

* * *

Jack crouched down in the bushes and watched over the car park. It was the middle of the night and virtually empty save for a few cars; it amazed Jack how many people would chose to go shopping in the middle of the night, but on this occasion he was grateful for it. He watched the door and waited for his target to emerge then blocked the CCTV with Mica's handy gadget.

 

His target strolled over to his car and Jack smiled at his good luck. It was a Beauty; a jet black 4x4 BMW X5 with nicely customised black windows and alloy wheels. It was the perfect transportation vehicle for modern-day body snatchers.

 

“Look at the beauty of that,” Jack whispered. 

 

“You couldn’t go for the ford escort?”

 

“This would be Ianto’s choice, believe me. He would love to skid this baby around corners, break the speed limit, then do a hairpin turn into a parking space like a stunt driver.” Jack sighed. “He loved driving fast, I think the adrenaline rush turned him on. You have no idea how often he just pulled into an alleyway without warning and grabbed me by the--”

 

“Jack!” Mica stopped him, putting her hand up as a barrier. “Do you remember our conversation about things I didn’t need to know about your sexlife with my blood relative?”

 

“Sorry.” Jack smirked to himself. “I was just remembering good times.”

 

“I’m just saying. It’s not right.”

 

“But this car is,” Jack said. “I’m going to go and get it.”

 

“Maybe something a little more low-key would be more inconspicuous.”

 

“Yeah, until they clocked the dead body in the back.”

 

“What are you going to do?” she asked.

 

“Watch, listen and learn. Your Uncle Jack is going to show you how to carjack with manners.” 

 

Jack watched the man pass and crept over to him, sticking close to his back; he pressed the stun gun between the man's shoulder blades firmly until he froze. “Nice car,” he whispered. “Would you mind if I borrowed it?”

 

“What’s that?” the man’s voice shook. “Is that a gun.”

 

“Yeah. So, can I take that car for a spin?”

 

“Don't hurt me,” he panicked. “I’ve got three kids and a wife at home.”

 

“I’m not going to hurt you,” Jack said calmly. “I just need to borrow your car for a while.”

 

“You’re not going to shoot me?”

 

“And ruin a gorgeous body like yours with bullets?” Jack smiled, taking a quick look at the pertness of his ass. “That would be such a waste.”

 

The man dug his hands into his pocket and took out his keys and held them up, letting them hang off one of his fingers. “Take it.”

 

“Thanks.” He took the keys. “What have you got in that bag?”

 

“Help yourself.” The man held the bag out to the side. “Take everything.”

 

“Thanks.” Jack smiled. “Y'know, you're a very courteous victim, you don't get that a lot these days. Your wife is a lucky woman to have such a nice guy.”

 

“Oh.” The man seemed confused. “Thank you?”

 

“Don’t worry your pretty little head about all of this.” Jack took the plastic bag. “You'll get your car back, but just don't report it stolen until tomorrow, okay?”

 

“Do I get to live if I do?”

 

“Yeah.”

 

“Then I like that deal.”

 

“Great.” Jack smiled. “What's your name?”

 

“Peter,” he said. “Peter MacAlister.”

 

“Then Peter MacAlister, it was a pleasure to meet you.” Jack pulled the trigger, filling his body with volts and watched him drop onto the ground. He crouched down beside him. “Sorry.”

 

Jack grabbed the material on the man’s coat and dragged him into the bushes, then put his hand in his pocket and took out his mobile phone; he removed the battery and put it into his pocket, then took his cash from his wallet. 

 

“I need gas money,” Jack told him. “But I’ll return her good as new, I promise.”

 

“Were you trying to rob him or pick him up?” Mica asked, helping shift the man’s feet away from view. 

 

“I can’t appreciate a guy’s physique while I steal his car?” Jack laughed. “Political correctness gone mad!”

 

“You could’ve just conked him on the head and nicked it,” Mica said. “You didn’t need to stop for a chat.”

 

“That would be rude.”

 

“You’re stealing his car, you don’t have to be polite.”

 

“Manners cost nothing,” Jack said. “Let’s get Ianto into the car and get moving. I don’t want to drag his body up a hill in broad daylight.”

* * *

Mica stretched out in the passenger seat as she woke up from her little snooze; the wound on her arm was still throbbing but the low dose of Morphine had helped reduce the pain a little. She looked over at Jack as he cruised along the M4 and watched the sun start to come up over the horizon.

 

“Sleep well?” Jack peeked over his newly procured Ray bands.

 

She groaned and stretched out her neck muscles. “Not really. How long until we're home?”

 

“Maybe another twenty minutes.” He pointed at the Severn bridge. “See? Homeward bound.”

 

“Great.” She looked over her shoulder at Ianto in the back; he was propped up into a seat safely fastened in with sunglasses covering his dead eyes. “Were you trying to recreate weekend at Bernie's when you did that to him?”

 

“I think he looks cute in sunglasses.” Jack smiled. “And he seems happy enough.”

 

“That’s more than a little creepy.” Mica shook her head. “You're odd.”

 

“It keeps him secure. I don't want my Ianto damaged.”

 

“Your Ianto?” She turned to face him, amused. “Your own personal Ianto?”

 

Jack smiled. “Fine, _our_ Ianto. I don't want our Ianto damaged.”

 

“Better.” She relaxed back into the comfortable leather chair. “So, what's the plan when we him back home?”

 

“Well presuming there's no ramblers or doggers about to see us, it's a simple case of getting him to the top of the hill.”

 

“And how do you plan to do that?”

 

“An arm and a leg?” Jack suggested. “You can give him another one of those handy muscle relaxant shots to make it easier.” 

 

“Oh great.“ She sighed. “So what if there's people around?”

 

“Stun Guns are useful for something.”

 

“And after that?”

 

Jack smiled. “You just wait and see.”

* * *

When Jack brought Ianto and Mica back to 2022 it was midnight. He readjusted Ianto's body on his shoulder to get a better grip and watched as Mica sprinted over to the bushes and threw up.

 

“Still travel sick?” Jack couldn’t help but chuckle. “

 

“Oh God!” She groaned. “Does it ever get better?”

 

“Not for a while.”

 

Mica wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, swaying a little. “It's worth it.”

 

“We have to get Ianto somewhere safe so that we can get your arm seen to.” 

 

Jack looked at the blood as it started to seep through the bandage; he had found a first aid kit in the car glove compartment and patched her up with a few pieces of gauze and a dressing, but it wasn’t doing much good. 

 

“You need these bullets removed,” Jack said. ”You’re losing blood again.”

 

“It had stopped.” Mica put her hand on her shoulder and looked at the blood on her fingers.

 

“It's the journey,” Jack explained. “It raises your blood presure. You’re losing blood and if we don’t get you help soon it’s just going to get worse.” 

 

“We get him safe first.” Mica started to make her way back down the hill towards the place they had hidden the car, then stopped to sway a little.

 

“Slow down.” Jack put his hand on her shoulder to steady her.

 

“I'm fine.”

 

“No, I'll drop you off at the hospital, take Ianto to the safe house and then come back for you.”

 

“Won't the hospital be a little suspicious?” Mica stopped herself from tumbling. “They ask questions. No I'll be fine.”

 

“No.” Jack steadied Mica again; the colour was starting to drain from her face. “No, you need a doctor and you need one right now.”

 

“The hospital will want to know too much.”

 

“You could be right about that, but you need help so we’ll just have to deal with that later.”

 

“We could go and see Brian?” she suggested. “He's safe.”

 

“No. we're not risking it.” Jack thought about it for a moment. “No, he cares too much, he’ll make a big thing out of it.”

 

“We can trust him,” she said. “I know we can.”

 

“We tell him nothing. Understand?”

 

“I promised I would call him,” Mica said. “He can help.”

 

“No. I have a friend,” he said. “This isn't her exact expertise but she won't ask any hard questions.”

* * *

Jack drove the car up the driveway in the dark as much as he could without hitting the car already parked there and got out. Diving out, Jack jogged up to the front door and knocked on it. When he got no answer he knocked again, more urgently this time, banging on the door with his fist.

 

It was past midnight and there were no lights on anywhere but he knew she was in, or at least someone was. He peeked through the letterbox. “Open up! It's Jack!”

 

A light went on upstairs and then one in the hallway; Jack could see someone running down the stairs through the textured glass on the front door. As the figure got closer Jack could see her gaze through the door carefully before opening it.

 

“Jack?” Martha Jones stood at the door, wrapping her cream dressing gown around her powder blue pyjamas, and stared for just a moment then shook herself out of it. “What are you doing here?”

 

“Emergency,” he said. “Sorry it's so late.” 

 

Jack jogged back to the car and Martha followed in her bare feet.

 

“Late? It's been almost fourteen years!” Martha said. “That’s more than a little late, you disappeared off the face of the--

 

“I know, I know.” He opened the passenger seat and then turned to her. “You look good by the way.”

 

“Trust you.”

 

“I mean it.” He smiled. “It's been far too long.”

 

Martha ignored him and stared into the back seat of the car, getting nearer the window for a closer look. She baked away. “That's--”

 

“I know.” Jack pulled her away from the car. “Long story, it’s really complicated and we’ll catch up later, I promise.”

 

“But that's Ianto.” She broke away from him and opened the back door, then knelt down on the driveway. She took his hand. “He's been dead for thirteen years!”

 

“Shh!” Jack covered her mouth. “Not so loud.”

 

“He's in the mid-stages of rigor mortis.” Martha turned back to face Jack. “It’s impossible! How is that-- just-- what?”

 

“I told you, it's complicated.”

 

“I can't help him.” She struggled to find any more words. “He's dead and not even freshly dead.”

 

“It's not him that needs help.” Jack helped Mica out of the car, pulling her by her arm and wrapping it around his shoulder.

 

“I have one thousand reasons why I disagree with that, care to hear a few hundred?”

 

“Gunshot wound.” Jack said. “This is Mica.”

 

“Jack--”

 

“Mica, this is Martha Jones, she's going to look after you.” Mica was unsteady on her feet, barely standing without Jack's support, but managed a smile. She held her hand against her makeshift bandage.

 

Martha looked at her face, trying to look into her eyes but she couldn’t see in the dark.

 

“She’s lost so much blood,” Jack explained. “I dont know if she can stand to lose much more.”

 

“Get her inside.”

 

“Thank you.” He walked Mica into the house carefully, guiding her through the hallway. He helped her into the kitchen and sat her down at the table, holding her shoulders to keep her steady.

 

“What happened?” Martha rushed over to her, picking her bag up from the hallway on her way through and opened it on the table. She put on her examination gloves.

 

“Blame your boys.” Jack folded his arms and bit at his nails as he paced around the kitchen. “UNIT did this.”

 

“When?”

 

“That question is far more complicated than you think.”

 

“Well of course it is.” Martha rolled her eyes. “This is you we’re talking about. You have an aversion to simplicity.”

 

“Is she going to be okay?”

 

“How is she losing this much blood?” Martha pulled Jack over by his hand, pushing a pile of gauze into it, then pressed his hand against Mica’s arm. “Press hard.”

 

“It’s--”

 

“Complicated?” Martha finished.

 

“Yeah.”

 

“It’s like her blood is thinner and her blood pressure is--” Martha stopped what she was doing and looked at him. “Where did you take her, Jack?”

 

“2009?” Jack said a little guiltily. “I had my reasons.”

 

“Great! She's got a gunshot wound and you brought her through the sodding rift?”

 

“The bleeding had stopped,” Jack argued. “She was in more danger there than here, I thought it would be fine. I didn’t think the body changes would affect her this much!”

 

“I’ll give her an injection to clot her blood. I’ll be able to stabilize her and remove the bullets, but she’s going to need a transfusion to replace a little of what she’s lost.” Martha sighed, pushing a syringe into her arm. “She’ll have to go to hospital for that, I can’t miracle blood out of thin air.”

 

“Its fine,” Mica said, finally taking a gap in their conversation speak. “I’ll call Brian and he can bring some blood from Torchwood.”

 

“What?” Jack asked. 

 

“Torchwood store our blood for medical purposes. I have ten units at the hub in the staff medical fridge.” 

 

“You’re not calling him.” Jack took Mica’s hand and put it over her arm to take over. “I have to go and do something but I'll be back. Just look after her for me.”

 

“And where exactly are you running off to?” Martha asked.

 

“I have to get Ianto out of here, then I’ll go to the hub and get her blood and bring it right back.” Jack kissed Mica's head. “I'll be back soon. I promise.”

 

“You can't just go.” Martha followed Jack as he jogged towards the door, then out towards the car. “She's a kid Jack, how the hell did she get shot in the first place?”

 

“Ask her yourself. “Jack got into the car and started the ignition. “I have to go.”

 

“You can't just dump her on me!”

 

“Sorry.” Jack shouted out the window as he reversed out of the driveway and sped down the street.


	20. Chapter 20

Jack sped through the village and down a dirt track until he reached the cottage; it was made of old stone and almost falling apart, but it was good enough for what he needed. The windows were boarded up inside and out, blocking out peering eyes and the woodwork was rotting. The front gate was missing, torn from its hinges, and the garden was overgrown and wild with weeds.

 

It was an old house, one that Jack had bought many decades before; his intention had been to do it up, make it into a home, but that hadn't quite gone to plan. Torchwood had always got in the way and he never found time to use it. Now it was old and run down, far away from anywhere, with no real charm other than the quaintness of the bricks. There had been a time where he thought about showing it to Ianto. He thought of making it a little place that they could escape to, far away from the eyes of others, but nothing that he planed ever really worked out that way. Ianto’s death ruined so many of Jack’s plans.

 

Jack got out and opened the door, then switched on a light before returning to the car. He took Ianto from the back seat and put him over his shoulder. He carried him inside and shut the door with his foot.

 

The house was almost bare inside. The simple furniture had been draped with dust sheets and the wooden floor was covered in a film of dirt. The light had no shade and the illumination from the bare bulb was barely visible in the dark, but it was just enough to be able to see.

 

“Home sweet home.” Jack lay Ianto down on the bed carefully and knelt down beside him. “It's not the Savoy, but it'll do.”

 

He opened a cupboard, took out a blanket and draped it over him.

 

“When you get out of this we could do this place up just like I planned.” He sat down beside him on the bed and smoothed his hair until it was neat, taking a moment to straighten his tie. “I have to go, but I'll be back before you even know I'm gone. We’re going to fix you, but I have to fix her first. I need both of you.”

 

* * *

 

Jack crept into the medical room in the dark; he had disabled the CCTV, but he wasn’t taking any chances of being discovered. He put the small torch into his mouth, holding it between his teeth as he looked at the keypad beside the large fridge. Holding his wrist strap to the lock he waited until it clicked and watched the light go green, then opened it up.

 

The fridge was full of blood-bags and it took a while for him to Locate Mica’s name. He took out two bags and read the labels carefully before slipping one into each pocket.

 

“Don’t move.” Brian stood in the doorway, his gun at the ready. “Turn around.

 

“Do you want me to turn around or stay still?” Jack smirked a little. “I’m nothing if not flexible, but even I can’t do both.”

 

“Unless you want a hole in your back I would turn around if I were you.”

 

Jack cursed to himself under his breath and put up his hands, then slowly turned around and looked at Brian as he walked towards him slowly.

 

“Captain Harkness?” Brian lowered his gun. “What are you doing here?”

 

“I have no time to explain,” he said. “I have to go and you can’t tell anyone I was here.”

 

“Where’s Mica?”

 

“I--”

 

“Where is she?” Brian stepped towards him, his eyes falling onto the unit of blood hidden away in Jack’s greatcoat pocket. “Why are you stealing blood?”

 

“It’s Mica’s blood.” Jack lowered his hands and put them on his shoulders. “She’s hurt, but she’ll be okay when I get this to her.”

 

“What happened?” Brian asked, his voice breaking a little.

 

“I can’t tell you, I’m sorry.”

 

“Just tell me!”

 

“She was shot,” Jack explained. “She lost some blood, but she’s going to be okay.”

 

“Take me to her.” Brian pointed his gun back towards Jack’s temple.

 

“Not this time, sorry.”

 

“It _wasn’t_ a request.”

 

“What is it with kids these days, huh?” Jack took Brian’s gun out of his hand. “You all want to follow Jack, you all want to point guns at things and you _never_ say please!”

 

“Mica--”

 

“Mica is a royal pain in the ass!” Jack interjected. “Don’t get me wrong, I love her but she just can’t leave things alone. She wouldn’t even be hurt if she had just been a normal girl instead of this crazy, i-can-fix-anything obsessive.”

 

“What did--”

 

“She’s always been like this, y’know?” Jack said, exasperated. “When she was nine years old she saw a kid get their phone stolen and she chased the thief across the estate, over the road, through the park, kicked him in the nuts and pinned him up against a tree! I should’ve known then that she was trouble!”

 

Brian looked at him then opened his mouth to say something; he couldn’t find any words. Slowly, he put his hand on Jack’s shoulder and patted it. “Is everything alright?”

 

“No!” Jack sighed. “Look at me. I’m breaking into Torchwood to steal her blood, does that sound like something someone would do if everything was okay?”

 

“I won’t tell Gwen you were here,” Brian said. “You look like you’ve got enough going on without her on your case.”

 

“Thank you.”

 

“But I _am_ coming with you, like it or not.”

 

Jack sighed in defeat. “I don’t have the patience, nor the time to argue with you. Mica is with a friend of mine, she's bleeding and she needs help. 

* * *

The spotlight from Martha's desk did a good job of illuminating the wound on Mica's shoulder as she worked on removing the bullets with a pair of tweezers. She had managed to stop the blood and Mica was weak, but she was holding on and most importantly, conscious. She looked ghastly and pale, her eyes heavy and her lips dry. She was doing the best she could to keep her awake until Jack got back, but she didn't know how much longer she could do it.

 

“Two down, one to go.” Martha squinted a little as she rooted around for another bullet and Mica winced a little. “Sorry.”

 

“It's okay, it hurts less than getting shot.” She looked at the shrapnel that Martha had already removed. “It's kind of like getting shot in reverse.”

 

She laughed. “I suppose it is in a way.” She removed the last bullet and wiped the wound clean of blood. 

 

“I’m tired.” Mica sighed. “I could just go to sleep.”

 

“No.” Mica slapped the side of her cheek a little until mica opened her eyes. “How did you meet Jack?”

 

“Oh, me and Jack go back a long way,” she said wearily. “I’ve known him forever.”

 

“Forever is a long time.”

 

“He's family,” Mica explained.

 

“You're his daughter?” Martha looked up in surprise. “You don't look old enough, well you do, I just thought he would have mentioned something.”

 

“He’s not my Dad.” Mica laughed a little, then licked her dry lips. “No. He's my Uncle... sort of.”

 

“Sort of?”

 

Mica sighed. “Ianto. He was my uncle.”

 

“Ianto?” Martha sighed sadly. “It’s still hard to hear that name, especially after--”

 

“Jack has always been around, always checking on us, keeping us safe. He’s my Mam’s guardian angel, I’m sure of it.”

 

“Right.” Martha prepared a needle. “So, Jack just kept lurking around and you adopted him as one of your own?”

 

“Something like that.”

 

“Jack Harkness, the stray puppy of the universe.” She laughed. “One doe eyed look and you're hooked forever.”

 

Mica jumped at the sharpness of the needle as it punctured her skin and looked away from the sight of the wire pulling at her flesh. “The fact that he's not blood doesn't even matter anymore. They say blood is thicker than water, but they’re wrong.”

 

“I'm glad he has someone.”

 

“He's got a whole family, even a great Niece now,” she said. “We'd do anything for him.”

 

“Even get shot?” Martha asked.

 

“I’d do it again.” 

 

“You’re brave, just like he was,” Martha said softly. “He came across a bit shy at first, formal and professional, but he was more than that. I didn't even realise until it was too late, but Jack always knew.”

 

“I don’t remember him much.”

 

“I’m sorry.” Martha looked up at Mica and searched her face carefully, then smiled. “You're Torchwood,” she said. “Aren't you?”

 

Mica said nothing for a moment. “Is it that obvious?”

 

“I can always tell.” She continued to work. “Dr. Jones, Clearance level 6, identity code 109076. I’m part of UNIT covert operations.”

 

“I see.” Mica smiled and looked down. “It makes sense.”

 

“I used to work for UNIT, but then everything went wrong. Too much corruption, too much--” Martha sighed. “Just too much.”

 

“So now you help us?”

 

“I suppose I still work for UNIT, technically. I go to work, I do my job, but I have my eyes and ears open. The moment they step out of line the report is filed and action is taken.”

 

“You're braver than me.”

 

Martha finished her last stitch. “God knows what they would do to me if they found out.”

 

“They never find out.” Mica slumped down a little, toppling sideways until she almost fell off the chair.

 

“No!” Martha caught her and held her face, slapping her cheeks slightly until she opened her eyes. “Don’t fall asleep on me, keep talking to me.”

 

“What about?” Mica mumbled.

 

“Anything.”

 

Jack burst through the front door, followed quickly by Brian and kneeled down in front of her; he placed one hand on either cheek and she looked at him, then smiled. 

 

“You took your time,” Mica mumbled. “Is he safe?”

 

“He’s fine,” Jack said. “You’re more important right now.”

 

Brian pushed Jack to the side and slipped his fingers over Mica’s neck to feel her pulse, then looked at her face. “Mica?”

 

“Brian?”

 

“Does your heart feel like it’s beating fast?” he asked.

 

“Yeah.” Mica struggled to open her eyes to look at him. “But it always does when you’re in the room.”

 

“We need to get that blood into her,” he said, turning to look at Jack. “She’s hypovolemic.”

 

“Get her into the living room,” Martha ordered. “She’ll be fine if we can get this done now.”

 

“And who are you?” Brian asked, standing to glare at her. 

 

“This is Doctor Martha Jones.” Jack helped Mica to her feet. “She’s saved the world more times than you’ve had hot dinners, so show her some respect.”

 

“Miss Jones.” Brian offered his hand to her.

 

“No time for introductions,” Martha said. “We’ve got work to do.”


	21. Chapter 21

Jack accepted a cup of tea from Martha with a smile and wrapped his hands around the mug to keep warm. It was cold outside, but it was a nice night and the sky seemed clearer than Jack had seen it in a while. Martha sat down on the ground beside him and tucked her knees to her chest; she looked up at the sky and sighed a little.

 

“Sometimes I sit out here and look up and think of all those planets,” Martha mused. “All those worlds and civilisations, adventures--”

 

“And misadventures,” Jack added.

 

“All that space, all that life and we’re sitting in my back garden drinking tea.”

 

Jack laughed a little. “Earth has the best tea in the universe.”

 

“This is the best tea in the universe?” She asked unimpressed. “A bag of dried leaves thrown into a mug, then drowned with milk and sugar?”

 

“Earth makes its tea with love, no other civilisation does that.” Jack took a drink. “Thanks.”

 

“What are friends for?”

 

“Have you seen the Doctor?” Jack asked, looking back up at the sky thoughtfully. “Any sign of that big blue box lately?”

 

“No. You?”

 

“Not recently,” Jack said. “I tracked him down seventy-odd years ago, but haven’t seen him since.”

 

Martha chuckled and shook her head; Jack’s timeline never made any sense to her. “What happened?”

 

“I talked him into reprogramming my teleport and after a _really_ long lecture and a lot of finger wagging he did.” Jack sighed. “He’s very different now. Very dramatic and a little ruder with a dash less charm, but he’s still him; after all that’s happened, he’s still my Doctor.”

 

“What does he look like now?” She asked. “Has that changed?”

 

“He’s older, but still attractive.” Jack looked at her for the first time since sitting. “Weirdly enough he’s Scottish now and as angry as I was at him at the time, I’m a sucker for a good accent.”

 

“Has he got an assistant?” Martha asked wearily. “Tell me she’s bad, tell me that she’s worse than me.”

 

“She’s young and cute with a little Gwen Cooper heart hidden somewhere inside her, but she's not a patch on you. There’s only one Martha Jones.”

 

“One Martha Jones that you totally forgot about for thirteen years,” Martha said. “Or closer to a century, knowing _your_ timeline.”

 

“I didn't I just--” Jack sighed heavily. “I cut everybody out, I didn’t want to be here or see anything that reminded me of Torchwood.”

 

“Mica said you were always there when she was growing up, so it’s not like you never came back.”

 

“I owed her and her brother an Uncle,” he explained. “Torchwood destroyed her family, the least I could do was try and make it up to them. I wanted to be there and watch out for them like Ianto would’ve wanted.”

 

“I understand.” Martha squeezed his hand. “It’s okay, really."

 

“I visited, I did all the things he never could because he never had the time and somewhere along the way, I became Uncle Jack.”

 

“They adopted you.” She smiled.

 

“His family became mine. They accept me for who I am, they even manage to make me feel normal and when I’m with them I feel mortal and that part of me that _always_ seemed so wrong, feels right.”

 

“It sounds like you found a good home at last.”

 

“But I never stay.” Jack sighed, leaning back a little. “I drop in and out because I can’t bear that he’s the missing link and it was my fault.”

 

“It wasn’t.”

 

“It was.” Jack said firmly. “I lost him and then last night I almost lost Mica, too.”

 

“But you didn't.” Martha kept hold of his hand. “She’s fine.”

 

“Thanks to you.”

 

“She wasn’t going to die, Jack. She was nowhere near death.”

 

“But she could've if I had believed her when she said she was fine; then it would’ve just been another death I caused, another person I loved gone because of me, _more_ blood on my hands.” Jack lowered his head, moving his fingers away from her comforting grasp. “Sometimes the blood is all I can see.”

 

“It wasn’t your fault.”

 

“You said it yourself, I brought her through the rift, I put her at risk.”

 

“She works for Torchwood, Jack. She’s always at risk,” She told him. “She chooses this life for herself.”

 

“Don’t remind me.”

 

“When Mica wakes up you can take her home,” Martha said. “And for God’s sake take that bloody man with you when you go.”

 

“What?” Jack’s smile returned. “Brian?”

 

“He’s irritating me more by every minute.”

 

“I think he's great,” Jack said. “Mica adores him and he’s kinda nice to look at.”

 

“As true as that might be, just make sure he’s out of my house before I kill him.”

 

“Yes ma’am.” Jack saluted her. 

 

“Enough of that.”

 

“I missed you, Martha,” he said sincerely. “I’m so sorry I stayed away all this time.” 

 

“Then give me a call once in a while.”

 

“Okay.” Jack slipped his arm around her and hugged her tightly. “I will, I promise.”

 

“You know what I want to know, don’t you?” Martha asked. “I can’t just pretend I didn’t see him.”

 

“I don’t want to lie to you--”

 

“Then don’t.” She looked up at him, searching his eyes for answers. “Tell me the truth.”

 

“I can’t.”

 

“Whatever you’re planning, think it through,” Martha requested. “Don’t make a mistake you can’t undo.”

 

“I have to go.” Jack slipped his arm away from her and stood up. “Thanks for the tea.”

 

“Where are you going?”

 

“Mica needs some things from home, I’ll be back for her soon.”

* * *

Jack packed a few more of Mica's belongings into a bag and zipped it up, taking a final look around her room to check he hadn't forgotten anything, he walked out the door and down the stairs. This hadn't been part of the plan; Mica was supposed to come home, spin her mother a tale and meet him back at the safe house, but that was out of the question. If Rhiannon knew that Mica had been hurt she wouldn't be able to let it go.

 

“Where is she?” Rhiannon switched on the light. “Where's my daughter?”

 

He closed his eyes and cursed himself then turned around. “Rhi, listen.”

 

“Don't Rhi me like you’re not lying to me,” she interrupted. “I know she’s not away with her friends because I called them. She's in trouble isn't she?”

 

“No.” Jack sighed and put the bag down. “She's helping me with something, that's all.”

 

“Helping with what?” she asked. “She's a kid and you never need help with anything.”

 

“She's not a kid anymore, she’s a grown woman and she knows her own mind.”

 

“She is and always will be my little girl.” Rhiannon glared at him. “Now tell me the truth.”

 

Jack closed his eyes and prayed Rhiannon wouldn't be able to tell he was lying. He couldn't tell her what was going on, and he definitely couldn't tell her about Torchwood; lying seemed his only option. “I'm taking her away for a while.”

 

“Why?” she demanded quickly.

 

“I promised to help her with something.”

 

“With what?”

 

“I can't tell you.” He walked over to her and put his hands on her shoulders. “But I'll look after her, I promise.”

 

“Why would you need to look after her?” Rhiannon’s glare shifted from anger to fear. “What trouble is she in?”

 

“It’s fine,” Jack whispered.

 

“It doesn’t _sound_ fine and it doesn’t _look_ fine from where I’m standing.”

 

“Rhi--”

 

“You’re sneaking into her room at four in the morning to pack a bag for her, now you stand there and honestly tell me that you wouldnt worry in my situation?”

 

“I know how it looks.” Jack sighed. “But she _is_ fine, I promise you.”

 

“Then where is she now?”

 

“With an old friend of mine, Martha.” He kissed her cheek. “I have to go but I promise to make her call you every day.”

 

“I trust you Jack,” Rhiannon told him. “Even when I know you’re spouting bollocks out of your arse, I still trust you and if you say that you’ll look after her I know that you will.”

 

“Don't worry.” Jack tilted her face to look at him. “I won't let anything happen to her.”

 

“And if something _does_ happen--”

 

“It won't.” He kissed her cheek again and picked up the bag from beside the door.

 

“I don’t care how immortal you are, Jack Harkness, if anything happens to her I will kill you. And not just once, i’ll kill you over and over again until I feel better, because I can.”

 

“I--” Jack took a step back. Sometimes Rhiannon Davies was one of the scariest creatures he had ever encountered; nothing was scarier than a mother. “I believe you.”

 

“Good.”

 

“She'll call you tomorrow,” he promised.

 

“She’ll call me today.”

 

“Okay. today.”

* * *

Brian sat in Martha’s spare room and watched Mica as she stirred in her sleep, wincing as she came around, creasing her face up mid-groan; he could tell she was in pain and it wasn’t really surprising given the hole in her arm.

 

“What time is it?” Mica opened one eye.

 

“Seven.”

 

“What are you doing here?” she asked groggily.

 

“I couldn’t just leave you.” Brian helped her sit up, pushing a pillow behind her to prop her up. “What the _hell_ were you playing at?”

 

“I’m fine, stop acting like my mother.”

 

“I asked you a question.”

 

“I can’t answer it,” Mica said. “Not yet.”

 

“Someone _shot_ you!” Brian snapped. “

 

“I know, I’m the one with the hole in my arm!” Mica groaned as she swung her legs out of the bed and took a look at her dressing. “It’s complicated.”

 

“I work for Torchwood, I _understand_ complicated; my whole _life_ is complicated for God’s sake!”

 

“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you. You would judge me, then you would try to stop me. So, I can’t tell you because I can’t let anyone stop me, not now.”

 

“How can you not trust me?” Brian asked, taking her hand.

 

“I’m sorry.”

 

“Me too.” He kissed her softly and let it linger for a moment before standing. “We could've been so good together, you and me, but I can’t invest myself in someone who doesn’t trust me .”

 

“I trust you,” Mica promised. “I do.”

 

“Not enough. Jack will always come first, a ghost will always come second and I will always, _always_ come last.”

 

“He’s not a ghost.”

 

“No?” Brian asked. “Then what the hell is he because he’s not living?”

 

“We’re bringing him back, that’s what this is all for,” Mica explained. “He’s been dead long enough. And we're getting him back.”

 

“That’s impossible!”

 

“How can you work for Torchwood and _still_ believe anything is impossible?”

 

“How?” Brian sat down slowly. “You can’t just--.”

 

“I made a cure for the virus that killed him and I’m going to bring him back.” Mica leaned forward and took his hand. “I’ve tested it out and it works, Jack helped me get his body and we’re going to make him live again.”

 

“Have you completely lost your mind?” Brian asked. “You can’t just bring people back from the dead because you have the ability to.”

 

“It’s all I’ve ever wanted; to know him--”

 

“We all have someone like that. I mean, my Dad died when I was twelve, I didn't dig him up and give him mouth to mouth!” He stood up and sat down on the edge of the bed beside her; turning to face her, Brian brought her hand to his mouth and kissed it. “It’s too much.”

 

“I need to make Jack happy again. I want my Mam to have her family back.”

 

“He’s been dead a long time, Mica. He’s too far gone.”

 

“Jack has a teleport,” she explained. “There’s no such thing as too far gone.”.

 

“It’s wrong, Mica,” Brian said simply.

 

“Torchwood do things that are wrong all the time.”

 

“I wish you hadn’t told me this.”

 

“Well, you said I didn’t trust you and I’ve proved that I do. Now that you have my trust you can break it when you go and tell Gwen.”

 

“I’m not going to tell Gwen,”

 

“You’re not?”

 

“No.” Brian sighed and closed his eyes, defeated. “I’m going to help you.”

 

“Why?”

 

“If I told Gwen, then she would stop you and you would never forgive me, would you?”

 

“Never.”

 

“Then I can’t do that and I can’t just leave and let you do this on your own, so I have to help you.”

 

“Out of the question.” Mica slipped her hands away from his grasp. “Jack would never let you, I’m not even supposed to tell you.”

 

“You need me,” he told her. “You don’t know enough about this, you don’t know what you’re playing with.”

 

“I’ve tested it. I know what i’m doing.”

 

“So you’re going to inject him with the antidote and just wait for him to wake up, is that it?” he asked.

 

“That’s the idea.”

 

“Okay, so it’s time to think this through.” Brian stood up and paced the room to think. “Let’s say you do this and he wakes up, how are you going to keep him stable?”

 

“I--”

 

“How are you going to control his blood pressure?” He asked, more questions coming before she could finish her answer. “How do you control his heart rate, his temperature, his _pain_?”

 

“Brian--”

 

“How are you going to know if he’s okay?” Brian continued. “You don't know enough Mica, you’re barely a lab assistant! You’re not a Doctor, you haven’t trained, you haven;t done anything without supervision and even _that_ was minimal. This is way over your head!”

 

“I don’t know,” she confessed. "I'll work it out, I always do."

 

“I bet you didn’t even think about it, did you?”

 

“I--” Mica sighed. “We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it.”

 

“Listen.” Brian dropped to his knees in front of her and took his hand, looking up into her eyes. “If you don’t let me help you, then he might come back but he _won’t_ survive.”

 

“You don’t know that.” Mica looked down at him. “You have no way of knowing what will happen.”

 

“I make risk assessments like this every single day and this doesn't look good. If he comes back and doesn’t survive, you’ll be crushed and I can't watch it, so _please_ just let me help you.”

 

Mica sighed. “God, Jack is going to kill me.”

 

“If he’s as smart as you say he is, he’ll accept the help.”


	22. Chapter 22

Jack drove Mica through the bumpy dirt track and back to the house; it looked different in daylight, older and more run-down, but it was safe. Getting out the car, Jack jogged around to the passenger side and opened the door for Mica who got out, then stared at the old building in front of her.

"What the hell is this?" She asked. "Is it abandoned?"

 

"It's mine," Jack explained, pulling out Mica's bag from the back seat. "You _really_ don't want to know how long I've had it."

"You never mentioned it before."

"You never asked." 

Jack led her towards the door, looking behind him momentarily as the growling of Brian's bike came to a stop behind them. He unlocked the door, giving it a firm nudge with his foot to open it and guided her inside.

""So?" He added proudly. "What do you think?"

"I think you're missing seven dwarves and a wicked witch." Mica looked around unimpressed. "It's not exactly modern, is it?"

"I haven't lived here since the forties," Jack explained. "And even then it was just to prevent me from running into myself. It's never really been used as a home or anything so I never put much effort in."

"I'm sure it'll be fine once it's cleaned up a little bit." She flicked a switch and it came on. "At least there's electricity." 

"I pop back once in awhile to keep it functional. I had the whole place rewired in the nineties just in case I needed to get away somewhere quickly. I even have a kettle and a coffee machine somewhere, that is if they still work."

"You think of everything."

"Are you sure we can trust him?" Jack asked, watching as Brian took off his helmet and stepped inside, casting a critical eye over the room. 

"He made some very valid points.”

“That doesn’t mean they were right,” Jack said. “If I wanted someone else involved in this I would've asked Martha..”

“And have UNIT involved?”

“She wouldn’t have brought them into it.”

“Then why didn’t you ask?” Mica questioned. “Unless you were unsure.”

“This isn’t her responsibility,” Jack explained. “And it isn’t _his_ either.”

“I trust him implicitly." 

"Then I do too, but it doesn’t mean I have to be happy about it.”

"This place could do with a bit of a spring clean, couldn't it?" Brian asked, peeking at the furniture underneath one of the large sheets. "I can almost feel my lungs blocking up."

"That can wait," Jack said. "It's a good hideout." 

"Where's the corpse?"

"Bedroom," Jack told him. "And I would really prefer it if you don't refer to him that way." 

"Why?" Brian asked. "That's what he is, whether you chose to acknowledge it or not."

"He's not just a body we scraped off the pavement!" Jack barked, stepping a little closer. He puffed out his chest and held his head held high, squaring his jaw. "He's Ianto Jones and rule number one is that you respect him."

"I always respect the dead, it's the living I have issues with."

"Brian!" Mica snapped. "What's wrong with you?" 

"You put her in danger for your own selfish agenda!" Brian pushed him back a little. "You dragged her back to the past and almost got her killed, so I think I'm allowed to be a little angry about that."

"You don't know what you're talking about." Jack shoved him back across the room. "You need to get your facts straight before you pick a fight you can't win,"

"I care about her!"

"Yeah, me too." Jack glared at Mica. "I'm going to check on Ianto, and _you_ need to explain some things to your boyfriend here."

"Jack--"

"I'll start you off." He turned back to Brian. "This was all her idea, she forced me to go along with it and she put _herself_ in danger." 

"What?" 

"So before you go all caveman, maybe you should get your facts in order."

Jack stormed out the room, slamming a door behind them in the distance. Brian watched him go before staring at Mica with an open mouth and a head full of questions. 

"You planned it?" He asked calmly. 

"Yeah." 

"You could've died."

"It was worth the risk." Mica walked over to him and grabbed his hand. "Do you believe in fate?"

"No."

"Well, I do. And I believe that everything in my life led to this point, from the way that Jack came into my life, joining Torchwood and meeting you all the way up to getting shot. It all lead us back to this moment."

"Why?" Brian asked. 

"The world needs Ianto Jones. I don't think he was ever meant to die like that; he was destined for bigger things and we need to bring him back. I've always believed it."

"That's not fate Mica," Brian explained softly, cupping her cheek. "That's just grief." 

"When I was a kid my Mam had to go to Uncle Ianto's flat to clear out some things that Torchwood had left behind. She brought back this one box with his diaries in, a few James Bond cars and a photo album." Mica sighed, slumping down onto the couch, sending a cloud of dust into the air. "Mam just sat there and cried and I was looking through this half empty photo album. There was barely anything in it, his life was so unfinished."

"It's sad he not got to fill it, but that’s how Torchwood was back then." 

"At the back there was this flat square of something, it just looked like paper to me," she continued. "When I touched it I saw a picture of him in my head.”

“A memory?”

“No. He was older, much older; grey with laughter lines and his eyes looked different, like they had seen more things than we know exist. He was with a handsome man that I had never seen until months later when Jack Harkness walked into my life. I was too young to really get it, but something clicked and I knew Jack was important and not just to him."

"Are you trying to tell me that you saw a future image?” Brian asked slowly, suddenly interested. “Echo technology.”

“I don’t know exactly what it was or where it came from, but I know it was proof that he doesn’t stay dead and everything leads back to this point.” Mica took one of his hands between both of her own. “Just help me do this and at least _try_ not to piss Jack off in the process.”

“Okay, but I'm not doing this for him." 

"Then just do it for me."

Brian kissed her hands, then stood up and led her into the bedroom; they stood beside Jack, staring down at Ianto's lifeless body. 

"Right'" Brian sighed. "I've never done this, so I'm just going to guess and cover all the bases. Are you alright with that?"

"Thank you." Jack smiled lightly. "I know you don't agree."

"I would be struck off for this if anyone knew, so let's just keep it between us."

"Done," Jack agreed. 

"Jack I need the keys to your car so I can go and steal a lot of equipment; Mica I need you to go into the kitchen and make it as clean as you can, then check we have a working fridge."

"Okay," Mica said. "Then what?"

"Rest'" he ordered. "We'll take care of everything else." 

"I--"

"Jack," Brian ignored her protests, "You need to get this room as clean as you can, we need it sterile." He took the keys from Jack's hand and replaced them with a pair of surgical scissors. "After that, cut him out of his suit and wash down his arms and chest, then cover him up and wait for me to come back.”

"I can't cut him out," Jack shook his head. "That suit is the only thing that he has left, the only thing that makes him who he is."

"It has to be done." Brian put his hand on Jack's shoulder and squeezed it lightly; he might not have liked this, but he knew when to show compassion. "I need to monitor his vitals and I can't do that through his clothes.”

“Are you sure you know what you’re doing?” Jack asked. 

“Not a clue,” he admitted. “But I know more than you do.”

* * *

Jack stood outside the house and looked at it; he had found some tools in the shed outside and used them to pull the boards off the windows. He hadn’t seen the place look so homely for decades. The garden was overgrown and the paintwork was chipped, but it looked more like a home than he had ever remembered. He gave Mica a small smile as she took a cloth to the windows inside and cleaned them to let in the light, then went back inside. 

“I don’t think this place looks too bad.”Mica sat down on the freshly uncovered couch and surveyed her work. “It’s got charm, I’ll give it that.”

“Yeah, I almost forgot what it looked like with a bit of light coming through it.”

“The kitchen is clean now, but we might want to do a little shopping if we plan on eating or drinking." 

“I’ll sort something out.”

“Did you do what Brian asked?” 

"I did," Jack said. "It felt so wrong.

”Is he ready?" Mica asked.

“He is, I’m not sure I am.”

“It’ll be okay.”

Jack slumped down on the couch. “I don't know if this is what he would want. We never talked about death much."

“People generally don’t want to discuss it.”

“We never talked about our future either. Maybe he knew the future would never really come for him."

“Maybe." Mica moved closer to the man she had come to call family and slipped her hand over his. "But from what I hear he wasn't the easiest person to get information from."

"He told me everything," Jack said. 

"Maybe he just didn't want to make you think about it?"

"Or maybe it was my fault,” Jack sighed, leaning back. “I never told him that I had plans for us. This place was always supposed to be for someone special, to let me live out my days with him away from prying eyes . I always thought we could get a Dog or something, a stray nobody missed.”

“That’s a romantic little plan.”

“Maybe a bit too romantic given our occupation, but there's nothing wrong with a little romance, is there?”

“Nothing at all.” Mica smiled. "Everyone needs a little romance." 

"I never stuck around to watch people I loved die of old age and I know that makes me awful--”

“It makes perfect sense to me,” Mica said. “You have more experience in grieving than anyone else on the planet, that can’t be easy.”

“I like to think I would've stayed with him," Jack spoke quietly.

"I'm sure you would have."

"Maybe I would have even asked him to marry me,” Jack thought out loud. 

“Really?”

“He probably would've said no."

"You never know."

"I think I would've asked asked anyway to prove he wasn't just a blip in time for me."

“I don’t think he really believed that.” Mica leaned into him, tiredness hitting her a little. “He knew he was important to you.”

“I don’t think he did.”

“And you never will until you hear him say it.”

“You know me so well.”

“I know you _far_ too well.” Mica smiled. “It’s scary.”

“You need to call your mother,” Jack said. “I promised her you would and she sounded pretty convincing when she threatened me.”

“What do I say?”

“Just tell her you’re fine,” Jack said, slipping his phone into her hand. “I’m going to take loverboy’s bike into that village and get some supplies. I don’t know about you, but I’m in dire need of something sweet.”

“Be careful with it!” she warned. “It’s his pride and joy.”

“I was once a professional space cowboy, I think I can handle a yamaha without totaling it.”

Jack picked up the keys from the table and tossed them in the air, catching them on the way down, then shot Mica a grin; it had been a while since he had taken a joyride in the countryside. 

“Stay out of trouble,” she warned.

“Call your mother!” Jack ordered. “I’ll be back before you know it.”

Mica watched him go, hearing the distinctive roar of the engine motor as it kicked in, then sped away into the distance. She wasn’t sure what she was going to say to her mother, but just ringing to say she was safe was going to send alarm bells ringing straight off. She took a deep breath, dialed the number and waited for an answer.

“Hi Mam,” she said breezily. “It’s me, just calling to check in.”

She held the phone away from her ear a little, sheltering herself from the wrath of her mother's words. Her language would make a navvy blush at the best of times, but this time she was _really_ angry.

* * *

When Jack returned half an hour later, his arms filled with shopping, it was Brian who met him at the door.

“Who said you could borrow her?” He asked, accepting one of the bags as the older man thrust it into his arms. 

“You took the car,” Jack complained, continuing past him as he carried the supplies into the kitchen. “It was the bike or walk and I’m not really a fan of walking around the countryside on my own. It’s a decent bike actually, got some good power behind it when you really get it up to speed.”

“To speed?” Brian asked incredulously. “What do you mean _to speed_?”

“I took that baby as fast as she could go.” Jack smiled confidently. “I forgot how much I loved country roads, all those narrow twists and turns and almost nobody else around.”

“You could have crashed!” Brian scalded.

“I would’ve survived.”

“It’s not you I’m worried about! I put a lot of work into that bike.”

“She’s fine, maybe a little muddy but nothing that a little soap and water can’t fix.”

“Well, while you were away joyriding dangerously in the countryside, I hooked the--” Brian paused, reconsidering his words. “ _Ianto_ up and we’re ready to go.”

Jack took off his coat, standing silently for a moment; the time had come and he wasn’t sure that he was ready. Bringing him back to life had seemed like such a great thing at first, but knowing that they were ready to actually do it made him more than a little nervous. He jumped little when he felt a reassuring hand on his shoulder. 

“We don’t have to do this,” he said. 

“We’re doing it,” Jack said quickly, draping his coat over the chair as he walked briskly through the living room. “We’ve waited long enough.”

“I might have gone a little over the top, but I decided it’s better to cover every eventuality rather than have to struggle to make do in the event.”

“Sensible.” Jack opened the door and stopped suddenly. 

“It’s precautionary.”

He walked into the room slowly, looking at Ianto in the middle of the room; the wires attached to his chest and head were rigged up to makeshift monitors and the tubes in his neck led to bags of fluid hanging high above the bed. It wasn’t exactly how he had expected to see him and he looked far from the peaceful man he had left less than an hour ago. He slipped his fingers over his hair and sat down in the chair beside the bed, looking over at Mica who stayed in the corner, still and quietly watching. He wanted to lean down and kiss his lips but the tube that Brian had inserted into his mouth made that impossible.

“You incubated him?” Jack asked. 

“He might need some help and I thought it was a little better this way.”

“I hadn’t even thought about it.”

“I rewired a defibrillator to automatically shock him at the first sign of rhythm, so hopefully we should be able to stabilize his vitals quickly and maintain him on life support if we need to.”

“Yeah.” Jack took hold of Ianto’s hand. “You seem to have everything covered.”

“I wasn’t easy getting the central line in,” Brian explained. “I’ve never had to do it on anyone without a pulse before but I’m sure it's in the right place. Everything else will monitor his blood pressure, heart rate and brain activity. I’m going to push some fluids into him once the antidote is in to help him stay hydrated and give him the best chance of survival.”

Jack nodded. “Thank you.”

“I thought you would like to do it.” Brian offered him the syringe. 

“I would.” 

Jack took the syringe from him and slipped it into the central line, pressing the plunger slowly until it was empty.


	23. Chapter 23

Jack looked at the clock on the wall from his seat beside Ianto's bedside and watched it tick over to midnight. It had been several hours since the antidote had been administered and nothing was happening. They expected to take a while of course, the antidote had a lot of body to reach before any reaction was expected, but Jack couldn't find the strength to leave him. He took a sip of the cold tea that stood on the table beside him and swallowed it down with a wince. 

"It's late." Mica relaxed back in her chair on the opposite side of the bed and yawned a little. "Maybe you should get some sleep."

"I'll be fine here, but you need some rest." Jack stood up and walked around, taking her good hand to pull her to her feet. "Brian is asleep on the couch, why don't you go to bed and I'll wake you if anything happens." 

"I'm fine."

"That wasn't exactly a question." Jack gave her a smile and led her out of the room and into another one just a little way down the corridor. "You can sleep in here."

Mica looked at the bed, made up with some of the crisp sheets Brian had brought from home and followed Jack as he led her over. 

"I can stay up a while and keep you company."

"Don't make me argue with you." He pulled back the sheet and pushed her lightly until she sat down, then lifted her legs into bed. Covering her over with the sheet, Jack sat down on the edge and looked at her. "It's been a long time since I tucked you in."

"Yeah." Mica smiled a little. "I remember when I was a kid you used to tell me stories about princesses and princes living in magical lands."

"Yeah, I did."

"Then you would sit at the end of my bed and wait until I fell asleep."

"You were afraid of the dark," Jack remembered. "I don't like to see you afraid."

"I'm far more afraid now than I ever was back then," she said. "When I was a kid I used to look forward to you coming home so you would tell me stories and I knew you would always come back to see me." 

"And I did."

"But if our plan doesn't work, if he doesn't make it, then you won't come back," she said sadly. "Will you?"

"Of course I will." Jack leaned down and pressed a kiss to her forehead. 

"But you're so sad without him."

"I love you," Jack said simply. "You're the family I never let myself have and that's not going to change. He's going to come back and we're all going to go on adventures, all three of us. I'm going to take you places with three Sun's and six moons, with waterfalls of sand and deep purple skies."

Mica sat up and wrapped her arms around his neck, hugging him tightly. "Promise you won't leave without me?" Mica's voice cracked a little. 

"I promise." Jack squeezed her a little too tightly. "Every good traveller needs a companion." 

"Or two?"

"Yeah." Jack smiled against her shoulder. "Or two." 

"You should get back to him." Mica pulled away from him and lay back down. "But come back and get me if anything happens."

"I will." Jack tucked the sheet up to her neck the way he used to when she was young. "Do you want me to wait until you fall asleep?"

"No, just leave the light on."

Jack stood up and pressed a kiss against her head again, closing the door quietly. 

"Is she okay?" Brian asked as he stood outside her room. 

"She's going to sleep."

"Okay."

Brian put his hand in the door handle and Jack removed it. "Where exactly do you think you're going?"

"To bed."

"Couch," Jack instructed. "I want you where I can see you." 

"But I--"

"I'm a guy," he said, putting his hand on the younger man's shoulder as he walked him along the corridor. "I know how guys minds work and you're not sleeping with her under my roof."

"I was just going to sleep!"

"As a likely tale as that _isn't_ , you're sleeping where I can see you."

Brian sighed heavily and settled back down onto the couch again. “You’re not her father, you know?”

“compared to Johnny Davies, I’m a pussycat.”

“Yeah, I remember his right hook.” Brian rubbed his face at the memory. “Do you want to sleep for a while?”

“No, I’m fine. I never did sleep much.”

“I’ll sit with him and get you the moment anything happens.”

“You’ve done enough.” Jack gave him a thankful smile. "I want to be there.”

“At the first sign of anything you should--”

The sound of a loud beef rang out from Ianto’s bedroom and the two men looked at each other before darting in, standing at the doorway just in time to see the defibrillator machine shocking him. They watched him as his body jerked three times, resting between each one before the machine registered a sinus rhythm.

Brian rushed over, brushing past Jack who stood still, staring at the peaked lines on the monitor and typed some commands into his computer. The ventilation device Brian had constructed in lieu of the proper machinery sprung to life, filling Ianto's lungs to help him breathe. 

"What's happening?" Jack asked, walking tentatively into the room.

"Mica's plan seems to be working." He smiled a little as he worked, injecting something into Ianto's central line. "I'm giving him some sedation to help his body out, let it rest while it repairs itself." 

"Is he alive?"

"Sort of," Brian explained distractedly. "The defibrillator detected activity and shocked him back and the ventilator is breathing for him. Left to his own devices he would be dead, but I'm not going to give up that easily. I’m not getting much brain activity, but it’s early days.”

“But no brain activity is bad, right?” Jack asked.

“Ordinarily, yes. But we’re bringing someone back from the dead, things are a little different and the order isn’t quite the same. This isn't someone who has deteriorated, this is someone who has died. Everything is all a little bit backwards.”

Jack walked towards the bed and sat down in the chair Mica had been occupying a little earlier. he slipped his hand over Ianto’s fingers; his skin was starting to warm a little, but his skin stayed the same grey colour as before. He watched his chest rising and falling with the aid of the machine and closed his eyes, resting his head against the other man's hand. 

"We should wake Mica," Jack said.

"I'll wake her in a while." Brian turned the monitors to face Jack. "Have a little time with him on your own."

"I promised."

" _She_ needs rest and _you_ need time with him." Walking over, Brian put a comforting hand on his shoulder and squeezed it a little. "She's a great girl, but she can be overbearing at times and you look like you need some time to adjust." 

"I didn't think it would work," Jack confessed. 

"It hasn't yet. This is artificial." 

"What are his chances?" He asked. "Realistically."

"I have no idea. It's a good sign that he responded and his heart seems to be beating by itself, but I have no way to be sure." 

"when will you know?"

"If there's no change in seventy-two hours we'll have to take steps to see if he can cope with a little less help, but try not to focus too much on that." Brian squeezed his shoulder again. "I'll go and make some tea, but If there's any change or you want a break just come and get me."

"Thanks." Jack looked back over his shoulder, his smile thankful. 

"I'll let Mica sleep for a few hours then wake her."

Jack turned his attention back to the Welshman and listened to the door closing softly, shutting him and Ianto inside the small room. He moved the chair a little closer to him and took hold of his hand with both of his own. It was strange to see him breathing after so long and the warmth was returning to his body, but Jack couldn’t believe he would come back until he saw him open his eyes.


End file.
